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THE CREW OF THE VIKING MEET SKIPPER MARTEL. 

{See page qS) 


/ 


The i 

Rival Campers Afloat 


Or, THE PRIZE YACHT VIKING 


1 

By 


i 

Ruel Perley Smith 

1 


Author of “ The Rival Campers ” 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

LOUIS D. GOWING 





BOSTON 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
1906 


I 


i 




UBRARYofCONGRESsl 

Two Conies Received 

AbG 28 1906 

CopyrifOl Entry 

Clu^2iJ9oL> 

CLASS JCL XXc. No. 

8 / 

COPY B. 


Copyright^ igo6 

Bv L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, August, 1906 



COLONIAL PRESS 

ElectrotyPed and Printed by C. H. Sintonds Co. 
Boston^ U.S. A . 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTBR PAGE 


I. 

Down the River 

• 

• 

. 

I 

II. 

The Collision .... 

• % 



IS 

III. 

A Rescue Unrewarded . 




28 

IV. 

Squire Brackett Discomfited 


• 


39 

V. 

Harvey Gets Bad News 


• 


56 

VI. 

Out to the Fishing - grounds 


• 


73 

VII. 

Near the Reefs 


• 


91 

VIII. 

Little Tim a Strategist 


• 


108 

IX. 

Harry Brackett Plays a Joke 




126 

X. 

Mr. Carleton Arrives . 




143 

XI. 

Squire Brackett Is Puzzled 




160 

XII. 

The Surprise Sets Sail Again 




180 

XIII. 

Stormy Weather 




192 

XIV. 

The Man in the Cabin . 




206 

XV. 

Mr. Carleton Goes Away 

• 

• 


224 

XVI. 

Searching the Viking . 

• 

• 


239 

XVII. 

A Rainy Night 

• 

» 


259 

XVIII. 

Two Secrets Discovered 

• 



278 

XIX. 

The Loss of the Viking 

• 


, 

298 

XX. 

Fleeing in the Night . 

• 


. 

318 

XXL 

A Timely Arrival . 

• 


. 

336 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Crew of the Viking Meet Skipper Martel 

{See page g8) ...... Frontispiece 

“The boom brought up with a smashing blow 

AGAINST THE ViKING’s STARBOARD QUARTER” . 25 

“ ‘ Nonsense,’ roared the infuriated Squire. ‘ He 

CAN SAIL A BOAT AS GOOD AS YOU CAN’” . . 54 

“ ’ Here, that ’s our boat,’ cried Joe. ‘ You ’ve got 

NO RIGHT TO TOUCH IT’” II 2 x 

‘“Just tell them that you heard me say I was 

GOING BACK TO BOSTON ’ ” 236 

“ ‘ Get out of here,’ exclaimed Mr. Carleton, 

sharply” 335 




THE RIVAL CAMPERS 
AFLOAT 


CHAPTER I. 

DOWN THE RIVER 

I T was a pleasant afternoon in the early part of the 
month of June. The Samoset River, winding 
down prettily through hills and sloping farm 
lands to the bay of the same name, gleamed in the sun- 
light, now with a polished surface like ebony in some 
sheltered inlet, or again sparkling with innumerable 
points of light where its surface was whipped up into 
tiny waves by a brisk moving wind. 

There had been rain for a few days before, and the 
weather was now clearing, with a smart westerly 
breeze that had come up in the morning, but was 
swinging in slightly to the southward. The great 
white cloud-banks had mostly passed on, and these 
were succeeded at present by swiftly moving clumps 
of smaller and lighter clouds, that drifted easily across 
the sky, like the sails below them over the surface 
of the water. 


1 


2 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


There were not a few of these sails upon the river, 
some set to the breeze and some furled; some of 
the craft going up with the tide toward the distant 
city of Benton, the head of vessel navigation; some 
breasting the tide and working their way down toward 
Samoset Bay ; other and larger craft, with sails snugly 
furled, tagging along sluggishly at the heels of bluster- 
ing little tugs, — each evidently much impressed with 
the importance of its mission, — and so going on and 
out to the open sea, where they would sail down the 
coast with their own great wings spread. 

The river was, indeed, a picture of life and anima- 
tion. It was a river with work to do, but it did it 
cheerfully and with a good spirit. Far up above the 
city of Benton, it had brought the great log rafts 
down through miles of forest and farm land. Above 
and below the city, for miles, it had run bravely 
through sluice and mill-race, and turned the great 
wheels for the mills that sawed the forest stuff into 
lumber. And now, freed from all bounds and the 
restraint of dams and sluiceways, and no longer 
choked with its burden of logs, it was pleased to float 
the ships, loaded deep with the sawed lumber, down 
and away to other cities. 

There was many a craft going down the river that 
afternoon. Here and there along the way was a big 
three or four masted schooner, loaded with ice or 
lumber, and bound for Baltimore or Savannah. Or, 
it might be, one would take notice of a trim Italian 
bark, carrying box-shooks, to be converted later into 
boxes for lemons and oranges. Then, farther south- 
ward, a schooner that had brought its catch to the 


DOWN THE RIVER 


3 


Benton market, and was now working out again to 
the fishing-grounds among the islands of the bay. 

Less frequently plied the river steamers that ran 
to and from the summer resorts in Samoset Bay; or, 
once a day, coming or going, the larger steamers that 
ran between Benton and Boston. 

Amid all these, at a point some twenty miles down 
the river from Benton, there sailed a craft that was, 
clearly, not of this busy, hard-working fraternity of 
ships. It was a handsome little vessel, of nearly forty 
feet length, very shapely of hull and shining of 
spars; with a glint of brass-work here and there; its 
clean, white sides presenting a polished surface to the 
sunbeams; its rigging new and well set up, and a 
handsome new pennant flung to the breeze from its 
topmast. 

The captain of many a coaster eyed her sharply 
as she passed; and, now and then, one would let his 
own vessel veer half a point off its course, while he 
took his pipe from his mouth and remarked, “ There’s 
a clean craft. Looks like she might go some.” And 
then, probably, as he brought his own vessel back to 
its course, concluded with the usual salt-water man’s 
comment, “ Amateur sailors, I reckon. Humph ! ” 

That remark, if made on this particular occasion, 
would have been apparently justifiable. If one might 
judge by their age, the skippers of this trim yacht 
should certainly have been classed as amateurs. There 
were two of them. The larger, a youth of about six- 
teen or seventeen years of age, held the wheel and 
tended the main-sheet. The other, evidently a year 
or two younger, sat ready to tend the jib-sheets on 


4 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


either side as they tacked, shifting his seat accordingly. 
The yacht was beating down the river against the 
last of a flood-tide. 

“ We’re doing finely, Henry,” said the elder boy, 
as he glanced admiringly at the set of the mainsail, 
and then made a general proud survey of the craft 
from stem to stern and from cabin to topmast. “ She 
does walk along like a lady and no mistake. She 
beats the Surprise — poor old boat ! My, but I often 
think of that good little yacht I owned, sunk down 
there in the thoroughfare. We had lots of fun in her. 
But this one certainly more than takes her place.” 

‘‘ Who would ever have thought,” he continued, 
“ when we saw the strange men sail into the harbour 
last year, with this yacht, that she would turn out to 
be a stolen craft, and that she would one day be put 
up for sale, and that old Mrs. Newcome would buy her 
for us ? It’s like a story in a book.” 

“ It’s better than any story I ever read. Jack,” re- 
sponded the other boy. ‘‘ It’s a story with a stroke 
of luck at the end of it — and that’s better than some 
of them turn out. But say, don’t you think you better 
let me take my trick at the wheel? You know you 
are going to teach me how to sail her. I don’t expect 
to make much of a fist of it, at the start; but I’ve 
picked up quite a little bit of yacht seamanship from 
my sailing with the Warren boys.” 

'' That’s so,” conceded the other. “ You must have 
got a pretty good notion of how to sail a boat, by 
watching them. Here, take the wheel. But you’ll 
find that practice in real sailing, and just having it in 
your head from watching others, are two different 


DOWN THE RIVER 


6 


things. However, you’ll learn fast. I never knew 
any one who had any sort of courage, and any natural 
liking toward boat-sailing, but what he could pick it 
up fast, if he kept his eyes open. 

The first thing to do, to learn to sail a boat, is to 
take hold in moderate weather and work her yourself. 
And the next thing, is to talk to the fishermen and 
the yachtsmen, and listen when they get to spinning 
yarns and arguing. You can get a lot of information 
in that way that you can use, yourself, later on.” 

The younger boy took the wheel, while the other 
sat up alongside, directing his movements. But first 
he took the main-sheet and threw off several turns, 
where he had had it belayed on the cleat back of the 
wheel, and fastened it merely with a slip-knot, that 
could be loosed with a single smart pull on the free 
end. 

‘‘We won’t sail with the sheet fast until you have 
had a few weeks at it, Henry,” he said. “ There are 
more boats upset from sheets fast at the wrong time, 
or from main-sheets with kinks in them, that won’t 
run free when a squall hits, than from almost any 
other cause. And the river is a lot worse in that way 
than the open bay, for the flaws come quicker and 
sharper off these high banks.” 

Henry Bums, with the wheel in hand and an eye 
to the luff of the sail, as of one not wholly inexperi- 
enced, made no reply to the other’s somewhat patron- 
izing manner; but a quiet smile played about the 
corners of his mouth. If he had any notion that the 
other’s extreme care was not altogether needed, he 
betrayed no sign of impatience, but took it in good 


6 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


part. Perhaps he realized that common failing of 
every yachtsman, to think that there is nobody else 
in all the world that can sail a boat quite as well as 
himself. 

He knew, too, that Jack Harvey had, indeed, had 
by far a larger experience in sailing than he, though 
he had spent much of his time upon the water. 

In any event, his handling of the boat now evi- 
dently satisfied the critical watchfulness of Jack Har- 
vey ; for that youth presently exclaimed, “ That's 
it. Oh, you are going to make a skipper, all right. 
You take hold with confidence, too, and that’s a good 
part of the trick.” 

At this point in their sailing, however, the yacht 
Viking seemed to have attracted somewhat more than 
the casual attention of an observer from shore. A 
little less than a quarter of a mile down the river, 
on a wharf that jutted some distance out from the 
bank, so that the river as it ran swerved swiftly by 
its spiling, a man stood waving to them. 

“ Hello,” said Henry Burns, espying the figure on 
the wharf, “ there’s a tribute to the beauty of the 
Viking. Somebody probably thinks this is the presi- 
dent’s yacht and is saluting us.” 

“ Well, he means us, sure enough,” replied Jack 
Harvey, “ and no joke, either. He’s really waving. 
He wants to hail us.” 

The man had his hat in hand and was, indeed, wav- 
ing it to them vigorously. 

They had been standing across the river in an op- 
posite direction to the wharf; but now, as Jack Har- 
vey cast off the leeward jib-sheets, Henry Burns put 


DOWN THE RIVER 


7 


the helm over, and the yacht swung gracefully and 
swiftly up into the wind and headed off on the tack 
inshore. Jack Harvey let the jibs flutter for a mo- 
ment, until the yacht had come about, and Henry 
Burns had begun to check her from falling off the 
wind, by reversing the wheel. Then he quickly 
trimmed in on the sheets, and the jibs began to draw. 

“ Most beginners,” he said, “ trim the jib in flat 
on the other side the minute they cast off the leeward 
sheet. But that delays her in coming about.” 

Again the quiet smile on the face of Henry Burns, 
but he merely answered, That’s so.” 

They stood down abreast the wharf and brought 
her up, with sails fluttering. Jack Harvey, looking 
up from the side to the figure above on the wharf, 
called out, “ Hello, were you waving to us ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” responded the man, “ I was. Are you 
going down the river far ? ” 

Bound down to Southport,” said Harvey. 

“ Good ! ” exclaimed the stranger, and added, con- 
fidently, ‘‘ I’ll go along with you part way, if you don’t 
mind. I’m on my way to Burton’s Landing, five 
miles below, and the steamboat doesn’t come along 
for three hours yet. I cannot get a carriage and I 
don’t want to walk. You don’t mind giving me a 
lift, do you? That’s a beautiful boat of yours, by the 
way.” 

The man had an air of easy assurance; and, be- 
sides, the request was one that any yachtsman would 
willingly grant. 

Why, certainly,” replied Harvey, we’ll take you, 
eh, Henry?” 


8 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Pleased to do it,” responded Henry Bums. 

They worked the yacht up alongside the wharf, 
and the stranger, grasping a stay, swung himself off 
and leaped down on to the deck. Then he pushed 
the boat’s head off with a vigorous shove and ad- 
vanced, smilingly, with hand extended, to greet the 
boys. The Viking gathered headway and was once 
more going down-stream. 

The stranger was a rather tall, well-built man, light 
on his feet, and handled himself as though he were 
no novice aboard a boat. He descended into the cock- 
pit and shook hands with Jack Harvey and Henry 
Burns. 

His voice, as he bade them good afternoon, was 
singularly full and deep, and seemed to issue almost 
oddly from behind a heavy, blond moustache. As 
Henry Burns expressed it afterward, it reminded him 
of a ventriloquist he had seen once with a travelling 
show, because the man’s lips seemed hardly to move, 
and the muscles of his face scarcely changed as he 
spoke. His eyes, of a clear but cold blue, lighted up, 
however, in a pleasant way, as he thanked them. 

He wore a suit of navy blue, and a yachting-cap 
on his head. 

“ This is the greatest luck in the world for me,” he 
said. “ You see, I want to catch the train that will 
take me down to Bellport, and I can get it at the Land- 
ing below. This fine craft of yours will take me — ” 

He stopped with strange abruptness. If the atten- 
tion of Jack Harvey and Henry Burns had, by chance, 
been directed more closely to him, and less upon the 
handling of their yacht, they might have observed a 


DOWN THE RIVER 


9 


surprised and puzzled look come over his face. They 
might have observed him half-start up from his seat, 
like a man that had suddenly come, all unwittingly, 
upon a thing he had not expected to see. 

But the two boys, intent upon their sailing, noticed 
only that the man had left a sentence half-finished. 
They turned upon him inquiringly. 

“What were you going to say?” asked Henry 
Burns. 

The man settled back in his seat, reached a hand 
calmly into an inner coat-pocket, and drew forth a 
cigar-case. 

“ I dare say you don’t smoke,” he said, offering it 
to them. “ No, well, I didn’t think so. You’re a little 
bit young for that. Let me see, what was I saying? — 
oh, yes, I was about to remark that this boat would 
take me down to the Landing on time. She does walk 
along prettily, and no mistake.” 

With which, he lighted the cigar and began puffing 
enjoyably. But his eyes darted here and there, quickly, 
sharply, over the boat. Through a cloud of cigar 
smoke, he was scrutinizing it from one end to the 
other. 

“ You handle her well,” he said. “ Had her long? ” 

“ Why, no,” replied Harvey. “ The fact is, though 
we have had other boats — that is, I have — and we 
have handled others, this is our first sail in this one. 
You see, we got her in an odd way, last season — just 
at the close of the season, in fact ; and she was not in 
shape for sailing then. So we had to lay her up for 
the winter. This is really the first trying out we have 
given her.” 


10 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Indeed, most interesting,” replied the stranger, 
arising from his seat and advancing toward the cabin 
bulkhead, where he stood, apparently gazing off 
across the river. Then, as he returned to his seat 
again, he added, “ That’s rather an elaborate orna- 
menting of brass around the companion way.” 

“ Isn’t it, though ! ” exclaimed Harvey, proudly. 
“ You don’t see them much handsomer than that 
often, eh ? ” 

“ Why, no, now you speak of it,” replied the man. 
“ You don’t, and that’s a fact. 

“ In fact,” he added, stealing a sidelong glance at 
the two boys, “ it’s the only one just like it that I ever 
saw. 

“ Pretty shore along here, isn’t it? ” he remarked a 
few moments later, as they stood in near to where 
the spruces came down close to the water’s edge, with 
the ledges showing below. “ What’s that you were 
saying about coming by the boat oddly? She looks 
to me as though your folks must have paid a good 
price for her.” 

“ Why, that’s the odd part of it,” answered Har- 
vey. “ The fact is, our folks didn’t pay for her at 
all. An old lady bought her for us. Made us a pres- 
ent of her. Perhaps you’d like to hear about it.” 

“ Indeed I should,” replied the stranger. “ It will 
while away the time to the Landing.” 

“ You tell it, Henry,” said Harvey. 

So Henry Bums began, while the stranger stretched 
his legs out comfortably and listened. 

“Well,” said Henry Burns, “this yacht, the Vi- 
king, was named the Eagle when we first saw her.” 


DOWN THE RIVER 


11 


The strang-er^s cigar was almost blazing with the 
vigour of his smoking. 

“ She came into the harbour of Southport — that’s 
on Grand Island, below here, where we are bound — 
one day last summer, to pick up a guest at the hotel. 
There were two men aboard her, and it turned out that 
these two men, and the man they were after at the 
hotel, had committed a robbery at Benton. That’s 
way up the river. 

“ Well, it’s a long story how they were discovered; 
but they were, and some jewels they had hidden were 
recovered. I said they were captured — but one, a 
man named Chambers, got away in this very yacht. 
But he came back, later, and set fire to the hotel for 
revenge. 

“ That was along toward the end of the summer. 
Then it happened that Jack, here, — Jack Harvey, — 
captured the man. Chambers, in this yacht, down in 
a thoroughfare below Grand Island. Jack’s boat, 
the Surprise, was sunk there, when the two yachts 
crashed together, bow on.” 

“ Poor old Surprise!” interrupted Jack Harvey. 

Well, then,” continued Henry Burns, “ there is a 
man over at Southport, Squire Brackett, that hates all 
us boys, just because he is mean. He told Witham, 
the hotel proprietor, that he had seen us boys in the 
hotel basement, shortly before the fire; and he and 
Witham had us accused of setting it, although every- 
body in Southport was indignant about it. And all 
this time. Jack was on the right track, because he had 
seen the man running from the fire and had followed 


12 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


him over to the other shore of the island, and recog- 
nized the boat he sailed away in. 

“ So Jack sailed down the other side of the island, 
and captured the man. Chambers, in the thoroughfare ; 
that is. Jack and his crew did. And they brought 
Chambers back just at the right time — and Squire 
Brackett and Witham were so ashamed they wanted 
to go and hide away somewhere.” 

The man they had taken aboard looked smilingly 
at Henry Burns. 

“ That is certainly a remarkable story,” he said, 
knocking the ashes carelessly from the end of his 
cigar. 

“ Yes, but the rest of it is the oddest part of it,” 
responded Henry Burns. There was an old lady 
named Mrs. Newcome, whose life we saved at the fire. 
She was furious at the squire and Witham for blam- 
ing us, and thankful enough when Jack got us out 
of it. 

“ Now, when Chambers was tried, he was so bitter 
against the other two who had got him into trouble, 
he confessed the yacht did not belong to any one of 
them. So the yacht was taken over by the sheriff, 
and advertisements were sent out all around to try 
to find the rightful owner. But they never did find 
him, and finally the yacht was condemned and put up 
for sale. There is where old Mrs. Newcome came in. 
She has no end of money, and no one to spend 
it on except hersejf and a cat. The yacht went 
cheap, and what did she do but buy it in and give it 
to us.” 

Henry Burns paused, and there was silence for a 


DOWN THE RIVER 


13 


few moments aboard the Viking. The stranger 
smoked without speaking, apparently lost in his own 
thoughts. 

‘‘ That’s all of the yarn,” said Henry Burns, at 
length. 

The man started to his feet, tossed his cigar away, 
and walked forward, with his hands in his pockets. 

‘‘ That’s one of the oddest stories I ever heard,” 
he said. You’re lucky chaps, aren’t you? Sounds 
like some novels I’ve read. By the way, isn’t that 
Burton’s Landing just ahead there?” 

He seemed eager to get ashore. 

Yes, that is the Landing,” answered Harvey. 

A few moments more and they were up to it, 
and the stranger was stepping ashore upon the 
pier. 

“ Well,” he said, shaking hands with them again, 
‘‘ I’m much obliged to both of you — really more than 
I can begin to tell you. Perhaps I can return the 
favour some day. My name is Charles Carleton. 
Live around at hotels pretty much, but spend most of 
my time in Boston. Hope I meet you again some 
day. Perhaps I may be down this way later, down 
the bay somewhere, if I like the looks of it, and the 
hotels. Good day.” 

“ Good day ; you’re very welcome,” called out 
Henry Burns and Jack Harvey. 

Again the yacht swung out into the river, gather- 
ing headway quickly and skimming along, heeling 
very gently. 

The strange man stood watching her from the 
pier. 


14 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


No/’ he said, softly, to himself, ‘‘ I never saw but 
one boat just like her before. But who would have 
thought I should run across them the first thing ? That 
was a stroke of luck.” 


CHAPTER II. 


THE COLLISION 

PEASANT sort of a man, wasn’t he?” com- 
mented Harvey, as the Viking left the pier 
astern, and the stranger could be seen walking 
briskly up the road toward the town. 

Why, yes, he was, in a way,” responded Henry 
Burns. “ Most persons manage to make themselves 
agreeable while one is doing them a favour. Really, 
though, he isn’t one of the open, hearty kind, though 
he did try to be pleasant. I don’t know why I think 
so, but he seemed sort of half-concealed behind that 
big moustache.” 

Harvey laughed. 

That’s a funny notion,” he said. 

“ Well,” responded Henry Burns, “ of course it 
wasn’t just that. But, at any rate, he is the kind of 
a man that has his own way about things. Did you 
notice, he didn’t exactly ask us to take him into the 
boat. He said, right out at the start, that he was 
going along with us — of course, if we were willing. 
But he was bound to come aboard, just the same, 
whether we were willing or not.” 

“Hm!” said Harvey. ‘‘You do take notice of 
things, don’t you ? I didn’t pay any attention to what 
15 


16 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


he said; but, now I think of it, he did have that sort 
of way. However, we shall probably never set eyes 
on him again, so what’s the odds ? ” 

They were getting down near to the mouth of the 
river now, and already, a mile ahead, the bay broad- 
ened out before their eyes. 

The wind was blowing brisk, almost from the south 
by this time, and the first of the ebb-tide running down 
against it caused a meeting between the two that was 
not peaceful. At the point where river and bay 
blended, and for some distance back up the river, 
there was a heavy chop-sea tumbling and breaking in 
short, foam-capped waves. Farther out in the bay 
there was considerable of a sea running. 

Harvey, lounging lazily on the seat opposite Henry 
Burns, suddenly sprang up and uttered an exclama- 
tion of surprise. Then he pointed on far ahead, over 
the port bow, to a tiny object that bobbed in the 
troubled waters of the river, low lying and indistinct. 

‘‘ What do you make of that, Henry ? ” he cried. 

“ Why, it looks like a log from one of the mills up 
above,” replied the other, after he had observed it 
with some difficulty. ‘‘ Oh, no, it isn’t,” he exclaimed 
the next moment. “ There is something alive on it — 
or in it. Say, you don’t suppose it can be Tom Harris 
and Bob White, do you? That is a canoe, I believe.” 

Without waiting to reply. Jack Harvey dodged 
quickly down the companionway, and returned, a mo- 
ment later, from the cabin, holding a spy-glass in one 
hand. 

‘‘ Hooray ! clap that to your eye, Henry,” he cried, 
when he had taken a hasty survey ahead with it. 


THE COLLISION 


17 


“That’s it!” exclaimed Henry Burns, taking a 
long look through the glass, while Harvey assumed 
his place at the wheel. “ There they are, two of them, 
paddling away for good old Southport as hard as 
ever they can. There are two boys, as I make them 
out. Yes, it’s Tom and Bob, sure as you live. Won’t 
it seem like old times, though, to overhaul them? 
You keep the wheel. Jack. We can’t catch up with 
them any too soon to suit me.” 

“Shall we give them a salute?” cried Harvey. 

“No, let’s sail up on them and give them a sur- 
prise,” suggested the other. “ They know we own 
the boat, but they haven’t seen her under sail since 
we have had her. They may not recognize us.” 

While the yacht Viking was parting the still mod- 
erate waves with its clean-cut bows, and laying a 
course that would bring it up with the canoe in less 
than a half-hour, the occupants of the tiny craft were 
bending hard to their paddles, pushing head on into 
the outer edge, of the chop-sea. They were making 
good time, despite the sea and the head wind. 

“ There go a couple of them Indians from away 
up the river yonder,” sang out a man forward on a 
stubby, broad-bowed coaster to the man at the wheel, 
as the canoe passed a two-master beating across the 
river. The boys in the canoe chuckled. 

“ Guess we must be getting good and black. Bob,” 
said the boy who wielded the stern paddle to the other 
in the bow. “ And our first week on the water, at 
that, for the season.” 

“ Yes, we’ve laid the first coat on pretty deep,” 
responded his companion, glancing with no little pride 


18 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


and satisfaction at a pair of brown and muscular arms 
and a pair of sunburned shoulders, revealed to good 
advantage by a blue, sleeveless jersey that looked as 
though it had seen more than one summer’s outing. 

“ What do you think of the bay, Tom? ” he added, 
addressing the other boy. This youth, similarly clad 
and similarly bronzed and reddened, was handling his 
paddle like a practised steersman and was directing 
the canoe’s course straight down the bay, as though 
aiming fair at some point far away on an island that 
showed vaguely fifteen miles distant. 

“ Oh, it’s all right,” answered Tom. It’s all 
right for this evening. Plenty of rough water from 
now until seven or eight o’clock to-night, but it’s just 
the usual sea that a southerly raises in the bay. We 
won’t get into any such scrape as we did last year, 
when we came down here, not knowing the bay nor 
the coast of Grand Island, and let a storm catch us 
and throw us out pell-mell on the shore. We’ll not 
give our friends, the Warren boys, another such a 
fright this year. We can get across all right — that 
is;, if you don’t mind a bit of a splashing over the 
bows.” 

‘‘ It won’t be the first time, — nor the last, for that 
matter, I reckon,” responded Bob. 

‘‘ And I always get my share of it, in the end, too,” 
said the other boy ; “ because when it sprays aboard 
it runs down astern and I have to kneel in it. Well, 
on we go, then. It’s fifteen miles of rough water, but 
think how we’ll eat when we get there.” 

“ Won’t we? ” agreed Bob. Say, now you speak 
of it. I’m hungry already. I could eat as much as 


THE COLLISION 


19 


young Joe Warren used to every time he took dinner 
at the hotel. He used to try to make old Witham 
lose money — do you remember ? — and I think he 
always won.’’ 

“ Hello ! ” he exclaimed, a moment later, as he 
looked back for an instant toward the stem. “ Just 
glance around, Tom, and take a look at that yacht 
coming down the river. Isn’t she a beauty? I 
wouldn’t mind a summer’s cruise in her, myself.” 

“ Whew ! ” exclaimed the other, as he held his 
paddle hard against the gunwale and glanced back. 
‘‘ She is a pretty one, and no mistake. She’s about 
as fine as we often see down this way. I don’t recall 
seeing anything handsomer in the shape of a yacht 
around the bay last summer, unless it was the one 
Chambers had — you know, the man that set the 
hotel afire. 

“ I believe it is the very yacht,” he continued. 
‘‘ There isn’t another one like it around here. You 
remember the boys wintered her down the river.” 

Yes, but wouldn’t they hail us? ” asked Bob. 

Perhaps not,” answered Tom. “ Henry Burns 
likes to surprise people. They are due down the bay 
about this time. At any rate, we shall have a chance 
to see the yacht close aboard, for she is heading dead 
up for us.” 

The yacht Viking was indeed holding up into the 
wind on a course that would bring her directly upon 
the canoemen, if she did not go about. She kept on, 
and presently the boys in the canoe ceased their pad- 
dling and watched her approach. 

“ She won’t run us down, will she, Tom?/’ 


20 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ No, they see us, all right.” 

There was evidence of this the next moment, for 
a small cannon, somewhere forward on the deck of 
the yacht, gave a short, spiteful bark that made the 
canoemen jump. There followed immediately the 
deep bellowing of a big fog-horn and the clattering of 
a huge dinner-bell; while, at the same time, two 
yachtsmen aboard the strange craft appeared at the 
rail, waving and blowing and ringing alternately at 
the occupants of the canoe. A moment later, the 
yacht rounded to a short distance up- wind from the 
canoe, and the hail of familiar voices came across the 
water : 

“ Ahoy, you chaps in that canoe, there ! Come 
aboard here, lively now, if you don’t want that cockle- 
shell blown out of water. Hurry up before we get 
the cannon trained on you! We know you, Tom 
Harris, and you, Bob White, and you can’t escape.” 

“ Well, what do you think ! ” exclaimed Tom Har- 
ris, raising himself up from his knees in the stem of 
the canoe, with a hand on either gunwale, “ if there 
isn’t that old Henry Burns and Jack Harvey. Say, 
where in the world did you fellows steal that yacht, 
and where are you running off to with it ? Don’t tell 
us you own it. You know you don’t.” 

“ Just hurry up and come alongside here and we’ll 
show you,” cried Henry Bums, joyfully. Our ship’s 
papers are all right, eh. Jack?” 

The boys in the canoe needed no urging. A few 
sharp thrusts with the paddles brought them under the 
lee of the Viking; a line thrown aboard by Bob White 
was caught by Harvey and made fast; and the next 


THE COLLISION 


21 


moment, Bob White and Tom Harris were in the 
cockpit, mauling Henry Burns with mock ferocity 

— a proceeding which was received by that young 
gentleman serenely, but with interest well returned 

— and shaking hands with the other stalwart young 
skipper. Jack Harvey. 

The bow-line of the canoe was carried astern by 
Harvey and tied, so that the canoe would tow behind ; 
and the yacht was put on her course again. 

“ You don’t mind taking a spin for a way in the 
good ship Viking, do you? ” asked Harvey. ‘‘ I have 
hardly seen you since we got this yacht, you know, as 
my folks moved up to Boston the last of the summer.” 

“We will go along a little way till we strike the 
worst of the chop,” replied Tom Harris. “ Our 
canoe will not tow safely through that. That is, we 
will, if you allow Indians aboard.” 

“ Yes, and by the way, before anybody else has the 
chance to apply,” said Bob White, “you don’t want 
to hire a couple of foremast hands, do you, off and 
on during the summer? I’d be proud to swab the 
decks of this boat, and wages of no account.” 

“ We’ll engage both of you at eighteen sculpins a 
week,” answered Henry Bums. “ But of course you 
know that the laws against flogging seamen don’t 
go, aboard here. Harvey there, he is my first mate ; 
and I make it a rule to beat him with a belaying-pin 
three or four times a day, regular, to keep him up 
to his work. Of course you forecastle chaps will get 
it worse.” 

Harvey, surveying his more slender companion, 
saluted with great deference. 


22 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ How do you fellows happen to be up here? ” he 
asked. Haven’t you gone to camping yet?” 

‘‘ Yes,” replied Bob. “ The old tent is down there 
on the point. We have had it set up for three days. 
We had an errand that brought us up here.” 

“ And the Warren boys ? ” inquired Henry Burns. 

Oh, they are down there in the cottage, sort of 
camping out, too; that is, the family hasn’t arrived 
yet. George and Arthur are working like slaves try- 
ing to keep young Joe fed.” 

“ He’s a whole famine in himself,” remarked Henry 
Burns. 

Say, how is old Mrs. Newcome’s cat, Henry, the 
one you saved from the fire?” asked Tom Harris. 

“ Why, the cat hasn’t written me lately,” answered 
Henry Burns. “ But I got a letter from Mrs. New- 
come a few weeks ago; said she hoped we would 
have a good summer in the yacht, lots of fun, and all 
that.” 

‘‘ My! but you are lucky,” exclaimed Bob. “ I 
have been as polite as mice to every cat I’ve seen all 
winter, but I haven’t received any presents for it.” 

Renewing old acquaintanceships in this manner, 
they were shortly in rougher water. 

‘‘ Here ! ” cried Tom Harris at length, “ we must 
be getting out of this. That canoe will not stand 
towing in this chop much longer. We shall have to 
leave you.” 

‘‘ Pull it in aboard,” said Jack Harvey. 

‘‘ No, it would be in the way,” replied Tom Harris. 
'‘Just as much obliged to you. We’ll meet you at 
the camp. Say that you will come ashore and eat 


THE COLLISION 


23 


supper with us, and Bob will have one of those fine 
chowders waiting for you; won’t you, Bob?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” replied Bob. 

** You mean that you will cook one while we sit 
by and watch you, don’t you ? ” asked Harvey. “ We 
shall get there before you do.” 

Perhaps not,” returned Bob. You have got to 
beat down, while we push right through. It is four 
o’clock now, and there’s some fourteen miles to go. 
We can do that in about three hours, because when 
we get across the bay we can go close alongshore 
under the lee, in smooth water; while you will have 
to stick to the rough part of the bay most of the time.” 

“ All right,” said Harvey, ‘‘ we will have a race to 
see who gets there first. But we’ll do it in half that 
time.” 

So saying, he luffed the Viking into the wind, while 
Bob White drew the dancing canoe alongside. The 
canoeists and the yachtsmen parted company, the 
Viking's sails filling with the breeze, as she quickly 
gathered headway, throwing the spray lightly from 
her bows; the canoe plunging stubbornly into the 
rough water, and forcing its way slowly ahead, pro- 
pelled by the energy of strong young arms. 

The Viking stood over on the starboard tack, while 
the canoe made a direct course for the island; and 
the two craft were soon far apart. In the course of a 
half-hour the canoe appeared from the deck of the 
Viking a mere dancing, foam-dashed object. But, 
in the meantime, another boat had appeared, some 
way ahead, that attracted the attention and interest 
of the yachtsmen. It was a small sailboat, carrying a 


24 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


mainsail and single jib. The smaller yacht was com- 
ing up to them from the direction of Grand Island, 
and was now running almost squarely before the wind, 
with its jib flapping to little purpose, save that it 
now and then filled for a moment on one side or the 
other, as the breeze happened to catch it. 

There’s a boat that is being badly sailed,” ex- 
claimed Harvey, as the two watched its progress. 
“ Look at it pitch ; and look at that boom, how near 
it comes to hitting the waves every time it rolls. 
There’s a chap that doesn’t know enough, evidently, 
to top up his boom when running in a seaway. What 
does he think topping-lifts are made for, anyway, if 
not to lift the boom out of the reach of a sea like this ? 

‘‘ And let me tell you, running square before the 
wind in a heavy sea, with a boat rolling like that, is 
reckless business, anyway. It is much better to lay 
a course not quite so direct, and run with the wind 
not squarely astern, with the sheet hauled in some. 
That’s no fisherman sailing that boat.” 

“ It may be some one caught out who doesn’t know 
how to get back,” said Henry Burns. “ See, there 
he is, waving to us. He is in some trouble or other. 
Let’s stand on up close to him and see what the 
matter is.” 

“ Well, I’ll take the chance,” replied Harvey. 
“ There, he’s doing better now. He is pointing up 
a little bit. We’ll keep on this tack and run pretty 
close to him, and hail him. I’ll just sing out to him 
about that topping-lift, anyway; and if he doesn’t 
like our interfering, why he can come aboard and 
thrash us.” 



“ THE BOOM BROUGHT UP WITH A SMASHING BLOW AGAINST 
THE viking’s starboard QUARTER.” 




THE COLLISION 


25 


As the sailboat drew nearer, there appeared to be 
a single occupant, a youth of about Harvey’s age, 
perhaps a year older, holding the tiller. His hat was 
gone and he was standing up, with hair dishevelled, 
glaring wildly ahead, in a confused sort of way. The 
boom of the sailboat was well out on the starboard 
side. Harvey kept the Viking on the starboard tack, 
and near enough to have passed quite close to the other 
boat. 

A little too close, in fact, considering that the youth 
at the tiller of the oncoming boat had, indeed, com- 
pletely lost his head. Suddenly, without warning, he 
put his tiller over so that the sailboat headed away 
from the Viking for an instant. Then, as the wind 
got back of his sail, and the boat at the same time 
rolled heavily in the seas, the boom jibed with ter- 
rific force. The sailboat swung in swiftly toward the 
starboard beam of the Viking, and the wind and sea 
knocked it down so that the water poured in over the 
side, threatening to swamp it. At the instant. Jack 
Harvey had thrown the Viking off the wind to avoid 
a crash with the other boat. The boom of the sailboat 
swept around with amazing swiftness, and then, as 
the boat careened, threatening to founder, the end 
of the boom brought up with a smashing blow against 
the Viking’s starboard quarter, breaking off several 
feet of the boom and tearing the sail badly. 

The sailboat, half-filled with water, fell heavily into 
the trough of the sea and rolled threateningly; while 
at every pitch the boom struck the waves as though 
it would break again. 

The Viking, under Jack Harvey’s guidance, stood 


26 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


away a short distance, then came about and beat up 
into the wind a rod or two above the wreck. 

‘‘ Get that mainsail down as quick as ever you can ! ” 
shouted Jack Harvey to the strange youth, who had 
dropped the tiller, and who stood now at the rail, 
dancing about frantically, as though he intended to 
jump overboard. 

I can’t,” cried the youth, tremulously. ‘‘ Oh, 
come aboard here quick, won’t you? I’m going to 
sink and drown. This boat’s going down. I don’t 
know how to handle her.” 

“ We guessed that,” remarked Henry Burns, and 
added, reassuringly, Don’t lose your head now. 
You know where the halyards are. Go ahead and get 
your sail down, and we’ll stand by and help you.” 

Henry Burns’s calm manner seemed to instil a 
spark of courage into the youth. He splashed his 
way up to the cabin bulkhead, where the halyards 
were belayed on cleats on either side, and let them 
run. The sail dropped a little way and then stuck. 
The youth turned to the other boys appealingly. 

Pull up on your peak-halyard a little,” said Jack 
Harvey, “ and let the throat drop first a way. Then 
the throat won’t stick.” 

The youth made another attempt and the sail came 
nearly down, hanging in bagging folds. 

‘‘ Lucky that’s not a heavy sail nor a heavy boom,” 
exclaimed Jack Harvey, “ or the boat would be over 
and sunk by this time. I think I could lift the boom 
inboard if I could only get aboard there.” 

‘‘ Here,” cried Harvey, coiling up a light, strong 
line that he had darted into the cabin after, catch 


THE COLLISION 


27 


this and make it fast up forward — and mind you 
tie a knot that will hold.” 

He threw the line across, and it was clutched by the 
boy aboard the smaller boat. The boy carried it for- 
ward and did as Harvey had directed. 

“ Now,” said Harvey to Henry Burns, as he made 
fast the line astern, “ the moment we get near enough 
so that I can jump aboard, you bring the Viking right 
on her course, with a good full, so she won't drift 
back on to the wreck completely.” 

He, himself, held the wheel of the Viking long 
enough to allow the yacht to come into the wind a 
little. Thus it lost headway sufficiently so that the 
seas caused it to drift back, without its coming about 
or losing all steerageway. Then, as the Viking 
drifted within reach of the smaller boat, he leaped 
quickly and landed safely on the deck. At the same 
time, or an instant later, Henry Burns threw the wheel 
of the Viking over so that the yacht gathered headway 
again and tautened the rope that connected the two 
boats. 


CHAPTER III. 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 

H arvey, having landed on the deck of the 
sailboat, steadied himself by grasping the 
starboard stay, and took a quick, comprehen- 
sive glance over the situation. A foot and a half or 
so of the boom had split off from the end, and the 
mainsail was badly torn. The main-sheet had been 
snapped by the jibing of the boom, but the break in 
the boom was beyond the point where the sheet was 
fastened. The broken end of the sheet was trailing 
in the water. The boat could be got in hand if that 
were regained. 

Seizing the end of the main-sheet that remained in 
the boat, and casting it loose from the cleat, Harvey 
found he had still the use of a rope of considerable 
length. Coiling this up, and hanging it over one 
arm, he regained the deck, over the small cabin, and 
took up his position on the port side of the boat. The 
stay on that side had been saved from carrying away 
only because the quarter of the Viking had arrested 
the force of the boom. Having this stay, then, to 
hold fast to, Harvey leaned over the side, as far as 
he was able, passed an end of the rope about the 
boom, took a turn, and made it fast. 

Carrying the other end aft, Harvey handed it to 
zZ 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 29 


the youth, who stood gazing at his efforts stupidly, 
evidently knowing not in the least what to do. 

“ Now you hold on to that,” said Harvey, “ and 
when I tell you to, you haul as hard as ever you can.” 

The youth took the rope silently and sullenly. 

Harvey sprang again upon the deck, caught the 
flying ends of the halyards and ran the mainsail up. 
It was slow work, for the sail was soaked with water, 
and the tear in it began to rip more when the strain 
was brought to bear. When Harvey had hoisted 
the sail sufficiently so that the topping-lift would 
have lifted the boom, he started for that; but it had 
parted, and was of no use. 

“ Well,” said Harvey, we’ll get the boom up a 
little more, with the sail, no matter if it does tear. 
We can’t help it.” 

So he took another pull at the peak-halyard. The 
boom lifted a little. 

“ That’s enough,” said Harvey. “ Now haul in on 
that sheet lively, before the sail tears any more. Get 
that boom in quick! ” 

The youth, with no great spirit nor heartiness in 
his movements, did as directed, and the boom came 
inboard. Then Harvey once more dropped the sail. 

He was brim full of life, was Jack Harvey, and now 
that there was something here worth doing, and nec- 
essary to be done quickly, he was eager with the 
spirit of it. 

“ Have you got anything aboard here to bail with ? ” 
he asked, hurriedly; and, without waiting for the 
more sluggish movements of the other, he darted for- 
ward, through the water in the cockpit, to where 


30 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


he had espied a pail half-submerged under the seat. 
With this he began bailing furiously, dipping up the 
pailfuls and dashing them out over the side, as though 
the boat were sinking and he had but one chance for 
life in a hundred. 

Harvey was working in this way, with never a 
thought of his companion, when presently there came 
a hail from the Viking. He paused and looked across 
the water to where Henry Burns was standing at the 
wheel of the larger craft, with a look of amusement on 
his face. 

“ I say. Jack,” called Henry Burns, drawling very 
slightly, as was his habit at times when other youths 
of more excitable temperament would speak quickly, 
that other chap aboard there is just dying to help 
bail the boat. Why don’t you let him do his share 
of it?” 

Harvey glanced back astern at his companion of 
the sailboat. What he saw caused an angry flush 
to spread over his face. But the next moment the 
cool effrontery of it made him laugh. 

The youth whom Harvey’s surprised gaze rested 
upon was a rather tall, thin, sallow chap, with an 
expression on his face that looked like a perpetual 
sneer. He wore no yachting costume nor clothing of 
any sort fit for roughing it. Instead, he was rather 
flashily dressed, in clothes more often affected by 
men of sporting propensities than youths of any age. 
In a scarf of brilliant and gaudy tint he wore a large 
pin in the form of a horseshoe, with imitation bril- 
liants in it. In fact, his dress and whole demeanour 
were of one who had a far more intimate knowledge 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 31 


of certain phases of life than he should. A telltale 
smear upon the fingers of his right hand told of the 
smoking habit, which accounted for his thin and sallow 
appearance — and which habit was now in evidence. 

It was this latter that particularly angered Harvey, 
as he paused, perspiring, from his work. 

The youth had seated himself calmly on the edge 
of the after-rail, with an elbow rested on one knee. 
In this comfortable attitude, and smoking a cigarette, 
he was aimlessly watching Harvey work. 

Harvey glared for a moment in amazement. Then 
his face relaxed. 

“ I say ! ” he exclaimed, throwing down the pail, 
wiping his brow, and advancing aft toward the other 
youth, this seems to be a sort of afternoon tea, or 
reception, with cigarettes provided by the host.” 

“ No, thanks,” he added, shortly, as the other 
reached a hand into his pocket and proffered a box 
of them. “ You’re just too kind and generous for 
anything. But I don’t smoke them. Some of my 
crew used to. But I tell little Tim Reardon that that’s 
what keeps him from growing any. He’s at them all 
the time. Guess you are, too, by the looks of you.” 

Harvey glanced rather contemptuously at the lean, 
attenuated arm that the other displayed, where he 
had rolled his cuffs back. 

Well, you don’t have to smoke them if you don’t 
want to,” said the other, surlily. But don’t preach. 
I’m as old as you are. My smoking is my business.” 

“ Of course it is,” said Harvey. “ I don’t care 
whether you smoke or not. But what I object to is 
your doing the smoking and letting me do the work. 


32 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Your smoking is your business, and so is bailing out 
your own boat your business — that is, your share 
of it is. Now, if you want any more help from me, 
you just break up this smoking party and take that 
pail and go to bailing. Fve got enough to keep me busy 
while you are doing that.” 

The youth glanced angrily at Harvey, but made 
no reply. Harvey’s stalwart figure forbade any un- 
pleasant retort. Sullenly, he tossed away the half- 
finished cigarette, slumped down once more into the 
cockpit, took up the pail that Harvey had dropped, 
and went to work. 

“ He looks like a real man now,” called out Henry 
Burns. 

The youth, with eyes flashing, shot one glance at 
the smiling face of Henry Bums, but deigned no reply. 

Harvey, without further notice of his companion, 
proceeded to hoist the sail a little so that he could 
take two reefs in it. This brought the sail down so 
small as to include the torn part in that tied in. The 
sail would, therefore, answer for the continuation of 
the trip. 

“ Say,” asked Harvey finally, “ why didn’t you reef 
before, when it began to blow up fresh and the sea 
got a bit nasty? You might have saved all this.” 

The youth hesitated, glanced at Harvey sheepishly, 
and mumbled something that sounded like he didn’t 
know why he hadn’t. 

“ Hm! ” said Harvey, under his breath. He didn’t 
know enough. 

‘‘ Well,” he continued, after a little time, ‘‘ you’re 
all right to start off again, if you think you can get 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 33 


along. That sail is down so small it won’t give you 
any more trouble, and there is plenty of it to keep 
headway on the boat; that is, if you are going on up 
the bay. Where are you bound for, anyway ? ” 

‘‘ Up to Springton,” replied the other. “ Straight 
ahead.” 

“ All right,” said Harvey, “ you can get there if 
you will only be a little more careful. Don’t try to 
run straight for the town. Keep off either way — do 
you see ? ” And Harvey designated how the other 
could run in safety. 

“ Run on one course a way,” he said, continuing, 
“ and then put her about and run on the other. But 
look out and don’t jibe her. Let her come about into 
the wind. Now do you think you can get along?” 

“ Yes,” answered the youth, shortly. He had by 
this time finished his bailing, and the cockpit floor 
was fairly free of water. 

‘‘ Well, then. I’ll bid you an affectionate farewell,” 
said Harvey, who had taken mental note of the fact 
that the youth had not offered to thank him for all 
his trouble. “ Sorry to leave you, but the best of 
friends must part, you know. Good day.” 

‘‘ Good day,” answered the youth, without offering 
even to shake hands. 

Harvey lost little time in regaining the deck of the 
Viking. Henry Burns was still smiling as Harvey 
took the wheel from him. 

“We seem to have made a very pleasant acquaint- 
ance,” he said. 

“ Haven’t we though ! ” exclaimed Harvey. “If 
we were only in some nice, quiet harbour, where the 


34 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


water wasn’t very deep, I’d just see whether that 
young chap can swim or not. He’d get one duck- 
ing— ” 

Oh, by the way,” called Henry Burns, as the two 
boats were separating, “ you’re entirely welcome to 
our assistance, you know. You needn’t write us a 
letter thanking us. We know your feelings are just 
too deep for thanks.” 

“ Little thanks I owe you,” snarled the other boy. 
‘‘ ’Twas all your fault, anyway. If you had kept off, 
my boat wouldn’t have gone over.” 

Jack Harvey sprang from his seat and shook his 
fist in the direction of the disappearing boat. 

Hold on there. Jack,” said Henry Bums, catch- 
ing him by the arm. ‘‘ Don’t get excited. Do you 
know the answer to what he just said? Well, there 
isn’t any. Just smile and wave your hand to him, 
as I do. He’s really funnier than Squire Brackett.” 

“ Oh, yes, it is funny,” answered Jack Harvey, 
scowling off astern. It’s so funny it makes me sick. 
But perhaps you’d think it was funnier still, if you 
had gone at that bailing the way I did, and had 
looked up all of a sudden and seen that chap sitting 
back there at his ease, smoking. I’ll just laugh about 
it for the rest of the week. That’s what I will.” 

Jack Harvey certainly did not appear to be laugh- 
ing. 

'‘Above all things,” he said at length, "what do 
you suppose he meant by saying it was our fault? 
That’s the last straw for me. We didn’t jibe his boat 
for him.” 

" No/’ said Henry Burns, " but he probably owns 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 35 


the bay, and was mad to see us sailing on it. He 
acted that way.” 

“ Well, it has cost us about an hour and a half 
good time,” exclaimed Harvey — “ though I should 
not begrudge it if he hadn’t acted the way he did. 
We won’t win that race in to Southport, by a long 
shot. It’s about half-past six o’clock, and we cannot 
make it in less than two hours and a half, even if 
the wind holds.” 

This latter condition expressed by Harvey was, 
indeed, to prove most annoying. With the dropping 
of the sun behind the far-distant hills, the wind per- 
ceptibly and rapidly diminished. They set their club- 
topsail to catch the upper airs, but the last hour was 
sluggish sailing. It was a few minutes to ten o’clock 
when the Viking rounded the bluff that guards the 
northeastern entrance to the snug harbour of South- 
port. 

“ There’s no show for that warm supper to-night. 
I’m afraid,” said Harvey, as they turned the bluff 
and stood slowly into the harbour. 

The immediate answer to this remark was an 
“Ahoy, there, on board the Viking V' from across 
the water. The next moment, the familiar canoe 
shot into sight and Tom Harris and Bob White were 
quickly on deck. 

“We beat you fellows by a few minutes,” said 
Tom Harris, laughing at Harvey. 

“Look out for Jack,” said Henry Burns, with a 
wink at the other two. “ He has been having so much 
fun that he doesn’t want any more. And, besides, he’s 


36 rival campers afloat 


starving — and so am I ; and we might eat little boys 
up if they plague us/’ 

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Tom, observ- 
ing that Harvey was half-scowling as he smiled at 
Henry Burns’s sally. 

“ Oh, we have been entertaining a friend up the 
bay,” answered Henry Burns, “ and he didn’t appre- 
ciate what Jack did for him. Seriously now, I don’t 
blame Jack for being furious.” And Henry Burns 
gave a graphic account of the adventure. 

When he had finished, both Tom Harris and Bob 
White gave vent to whistles of surprise. 

“ Say,” exclaimed Bob White, “ you couldn’t guess 
who that young chap is, if you tried a hundred years.” 

“ Why, do you know him, then? ” cried Jack Har- 
vey. 

“ Yes, and you will know him, too, before the 
summer is over,” replied Bob White. “ That’s Harry 
Brackett, Squire Brackett’s son.” 

“ Didn’t know he had any,” exclaimed Harvey. 

“ Neither did we till this summer,” said Bob White. 
“ He dropped in on us one day, early, and wanted to 
borrow some money. That was up in Benton. He 
said he must have it, to get right back to Southport ; 
and Tom’s father let him have a little. But we saw 
him several days after that driving about the streets 
with a hired rig. So that’s where the money went, 
and I think Mr. Harris will never see the money 
again. He’s been off to school for two years, so he 
says; but if he has learned anything except how to 
smoke, he doesn’t show it. 

“ But, never, mind that now,” added Bob. “ Let’s 


A RESCUE UNREWARDED 37 


get the Viking in to anchorage and made snug, for 
you know there's something waiting for you over to 
the camp.” 

‘‘What! You don't mean you have kept supper 
waiting for us all this time ? '' cried Henry Burns, 
joyfully. 

“ Oh, but you are a pair of bricks ! '' exclaimed 
Harvey, as Bob White nodded an affirmative. “ I 
can smell that fish chowder that Bob makes clear out 
here.'' 

A few minutes later, the four boys, weighting the 
canoe down almost to the gunwales, were gliding in it 
across the water to a point of land fronting the har- 
bour, where, through the darkness, the vague outlines 
of a tent were to be discerned. Soon the canoe grazed 
along a shelf of ledge, upon which they stepped. 
Tom Harris sprang up the bank and vanished inside 
the tent. Then the light of a lantern shone out, illu- 
minating the canvas, and Tom Harris, as host, stood 
in the doorway, holding aside the flap for them to 
enter. 

Inside the tent, which had a floor of matched 
boards, freighted down from up the river for the pur- 
pose, it was comfortable and cosy. Along either side, 
a bunk was set up, made of spruce poles, with boards 
nailed across, and hay mattresses spread over these. 
There were two roughly made chairs, which, with the 
bunks, provided sufficient seats for all. At the farther 
end of the tent, on a box, beside another big wooden 
box that served for a locker, was an oil-stove, which 
was now lighted and upon which there rested an 
enormous stew-pan. 


38 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The cover being removed from this, there issued 
forth an aroma of fish chowder that brought a broad 
grin even to the face of Jack Harvey. 

“ Hooray ! ” he yelled, grasping Bob White about 
the waist, giving him a bearlike embrace, and releas- 
ing him only to bestow an appreciative blow upon his 
broad back. “ It’s the real thing. It’s one of Bob’s 
best. It is a year since I had one, but I remember 
it like an old friend.” 

‘‘You get the first helping, for the compliment,” 
said Bob White, ladle in hand. 

“ And only to think,” said Henry Burns, some mo- 
ments later, as he leaned back comfortably, spoon in 
hand, “ that that was Squire Brackett’s son we helped 
out of the scrape. He certainly has the squire’s pleas- 
ing manner, hasn’t he. Jack?” 

“ Henry,” replied Jack Harvey, solemnly, “ don’t 
you mention that young Brackett again to me to-night. 
If you do, I’ll put sail on the Viking and go out after 
him.” 

“ Then I won’t say another word,” exclaimed Henry 
Burns. “ For my part, I hope never to set eyes on 
him again.” 

Unfortunately, that wish was not to be gratified. 


CHAPTER IV. 


SQUIRE BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 

I ^ UT say/' inquired Henry Bums, in a some- 
what disappointed tone, as they were about to 
begin, where are the fellows ? It doesn’t 
seem natural to me to arrive at Southport and not 
have them on hand. Didn’t you tell them we were 
coming? ” 

Didn’t have a chance,” replied Bob. ‘‘ We went 
up to the cottage, but there wasn’t anybody there. 
Then we met Billy Cook, and he said he saw all three 
of them away up the island this afternoon.” 

Henry Burns went to the door of the tent and looked 
over the point of land, up the sweep of the cove. 

They have come back,” he exclaimed. “ There’s 
a light in the cottage. Come on, let’s hurry up and eat, 
and get over there.” 

But at that very moment the light went out. 

‘‘ Hello ! ” he said. “ There they go, off to bed. 
Guess they must be tired. Too bad, for I simply can- 
not stand it, not to go over to the cottage to-night — 
just to look at the cottage, if nothing more. And I 
am afraid if I do, I may make a little noise, acci- 
dentally, and wake one of them up.” 

39 


40 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Henry Burns said this most sympathizingly ; but 
there was a twinkle in the corners of his eyes. 

‘‘ Come on, Henry,” cried Harvey, “ you are miss- 
ing the greatest chowder you ever saw.” 

“ Looks as though I might miss a good deal of it, 
by the way you are stowing it aboard,” replied Henry 
Burns, reentering the tent and observing the manner 
in which Harvey was attacking his dish, while Tom 
and Bob looked on admiringly. 

“ Never mind, Henry,” said Bob. “ There’s enough. 
And, besides, Harvey is a delicate little chap. He 
needs nourishing food and plenty of it.” 

Harvey squared his broad shoulders and smiled. 

‘‘ I’m beginning to get good-natured once more,” 
he said. 

The campers’ quarters were certainly comfortable 
enough to make most any one feel good-natured. The 
tent was roomy ; the stove warmed it gratefully against 
the night air, which still had some chill in it; the 
warm supper tasted good after the long, hard day’s 
sailing; and Tom and Bob were genial hosts. 

Outside, the waves, fallen from their boisterousness 
of the afternoon to gentle murmurings, were rippling 
in with a pleasing sound against the point of land 
whereon the camp stood. The breeze was soft, though 
lacking the mildness of the later summer, and the night 
was clear and starlit. 

It had passed the half-hour after ten o’clock when 
the boys had finished eating. They arose and went 
out in front of the tent. 

‘‘ It is all dark over yonder at the Warren cottage,” 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 41 


said Tom. “ What do you think — had we better 
go over? The fellows are surely asleep.'’ 

‘‘ Yes, indeed,” said Henry Burns. Why, they 
would never forgive me if I didn’t go over the first 
night I arrived here. We can just go over and leave 
our cards at the front door. Of course we don’t have 
to wake them up if they are asleep.” 

‘‘ Oh, of course not,” exclaimed Harvey. But just 
wait a moment, and I’ll go out aboard and bring in 
that fog-horn and that dinner-bell.” 

We’ll get them in the canoe. Jack,” said Bob. He 
and Harvey departed, and returned shortly, bringing 
with them a fog-horn that was not by any means a 
toy affair, but for serious use, to give warning in the 
fog to oncoming steamers; likewise, a gigantic din- 
ner-bell, used for the same purpose aboard the Viking. 

‘‘We haven’t anything in camp fit to make much of 
a noise with,” said Tom, almost apologetically. “ We 
keep our tent anchored in a fog, you know.” 

“Who said anything about making a noise?” in- 
quired Henry Burns, innocently; and then added, 
“ Never mind, there’s stuff enough up at the cot- 
tage.” 

They proceeded without more delay up through the 
little clump of spruce-trees which shaded the camp on 
the side toward the village, and struck into the road 
that led through the sleeping town. Sleepy by day, 
even, the little village of Southport, which numbered 
only about a score of houses, clustered about the har- 
bour, was seized with still greater drowsiness early of 
nights. Its inhabitants, early to rise, were likewise 
early to bed; and the place, before the summer vis- 


42 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


itors arrived, was wont to fall sound asleep by nine 
o’clock. 

It was very still, therefore, as the boys went on up 
the main street. Presently they turned off on a road 
to the right that led along the shore of the cove, and 
back of which was a line of summer cottages, now 
for the most part unopened for the season. 

“ There’s Captain Sam’s,” remarked Henry Burns, 
as they passed a little frame cottage just before they 
had come to the turn of the road. “ I’d like to give 
him one salute for old time’s sake. He’s the jolliest 
man in Southport.” 

He is not at home,” said Tom. ‘‘ We asked about 
him to-day, when we got in. He started up the bay 
this afternoon. Queer you did not see him out there 
somewhere.” 

'' Why, we saw one or two boats off in the distance 
at the time of the collision,” said Harvey; “but we 
were pretty much occupied just about that time, eh, 
Henry? I didn’t notice what boats they were.” 

They were approaching the Warren cottage by this 
time, and their conversation ceased. The cottage was 
the last in the row that skirted the cove, somewhat 
apart from all the others, occupying a piece of high 
ground that overlooked the cove and the bay, and 
affording a view away beyond to the off-lying islands. 
This view was obtained through a thin grove of 
spruces, with which the island abounded, and which 
made a picturesque foreground. 

The cottage itself was roomy and comfortable, with 
a broad piazza extending around the front and one 
side. Upon this piazza the boys now stepped, quietly 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 43 

— so as not to disturb the sleepers/’ Henry Burns 
put in. 

“ Well, Henry, what’s up? You are master of cere- 
monies, you know,” said Tom. 

“ Why, we want to wake them very gently at first,” 
replied Henry Burns. ‘‘ You know it is not good for 
any one to be frightened out of his sleep. They might 
not grow any more; and it might take away young 
Joe’s appetite — No, it would take more than that 
to do it,” he added. 

They stepped around cautiously to the front door. 
As they had surmised, the peacefulness of Southport 
made locks and keys a matter more of form than usage, 
and the Warren boys had not turned the key in the 
lock. They entered softly. 

Hark ! what’s that ? ” whispered Bob. 

They paused on tiptoe. A subdued, choky roar, or 
growl, was borne down the front stairway from above. 

“ You ought to know that sound by this time,” said 
Henry Burns. “ It’s young Joe, snoring. Don’t you 
remember how the other boys used to declare he would 
make the boat leak, by jarring it with that racket, 
when we had to sleep aboard last summer? Why, he 
used to have black and blue spots up and down his 
legs, where George and Arthur kicked him awake, so 
they could go to sleep.” 

The sound was, indeed, prodigious for one boy to 
make. 

“ We may as well have some light on the subject,” 
said Henry Burns, striking a match and lighting the 
hanging-lamp in the sitting-room. It shed a soft glow 
over the place and revealed a room prettily furnished ; 


44 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the hardwood floor reflecting from its polished surface 
the rays from the lamp; a generous fireplace in one 
corner; and, more to the purpose at present, some big 
easy chairs, in which the boys made themselves at 
home. 

But first a peep into the Warren kitchen pantry re- 
warded Bob with a mighty iron serving-tray, and Tom 
with a pair of tin pot-covers, which, grasped by their 
handles and clashed together, would serve famously as 
cymbals. 

Now,” said Henry Burns, when they were all as- 
sembled and comfortably seated, ‘‘ you remember how 
we used to imitate the village band when it practised 
nights in the loft over the old fish-house? Well, Fll 
be the cornet ; Tom, you’re the bass horn — ” 

“ He is when his voice doesn’t break,” remarked 
Bob, slyly. 

“ That’s all right,” replied Henry Burns. “ Every 
musician strikes a false note once in awhile, you 
know.” And he continued, “ You are the slide-trom- 
bone, Jack; and you, Bob, come in with that shriek- 
ing whistle through your fingers for the flute.” 

“ Great ! ” exclaimed Bob. “ What shall we try ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, we’ll give them ‘ Old Black Joe ’ for a 
starter,” said Henry Burns, just out of compliment 
to young black Joe up-stairs.” 

Presently, there arose through the stillness of the 
house, and was wafted up the stairway, an unmelodi- 
ous, mournful discord, that may perhaps have borne 
some grotesque resemblance to the old song they had 
chosen, but was, indeed, a most atrocious and melan- 
choly rendering of it. 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 45 

Then they paused to listen. 

There was no answering sound from above, save 
that the snoring of young Joe was no longer deep and 
regular, but broken and short and sharp, like snorts 
of protest. 

“Repeat!” ordered Henry Burns to his grinning 
band. 

Again the combined assault on “ Old Black Joe ” 
began. 

Then they paused again. 

The snoring of young Joe was broken off abruptly, 
with one particularly loud outburst on his part. There 
was, also, the creaking of a bed in another room, and 
a sound as of some one sitting bolt upright. 

“ Here, you Joe! Quit that! What on earth are you 
doing?” called out the voice of George Warren, in 
tones which denoted that he had awakened from 
slumber, but not to full consciousness of what had 
waked him, except that it was some weird sound. 

Then another voice, more sleepily than the other: 
“ What’s the matter, George? Keep quiet, and let 
a fellow go to sleep.” 

“ Why, it’s that young Joe’s infernal nonsense, I 
suppose,” exclaimed the elder brother. “ Now, that 
will be enough of that, Joe. It isn’t funny, you 
know.” 

“ That’s it ! always blaming me for something,” 
came the answer from the youngest boy’s room. 
“You fellows are dreaming — gracious, no! I hear 
a voice down-stairs.” 

It was the voice of Henry Burns saying solemnly, 
“ Repeat.” 


46 rival campers AFLOAT 


“ Old Black Joe/’ out of time, out of tune, turned 
inside out and scarcely recognizable, again arose to the 
ears of the now fully aroused Warren brothers. 

There was the sound of some one leaping out of 
bed upon the bare chamber floor. 

“ Now you get back into bed there, Joe! ” came the 
voice of George Warren, peremptorily. ‘‘ Let those 
idiots, Tom and Bob, amuse themselves till they get 
tired, if they think it’s funny. We are not going to 
get up to-night, and that’s all there is about it. Say, 
you fellows go on now, and let us alone. We’re tired, 
and we are not going to get up.” 

‘‘ Too dictatorial, altogether,” commented Henry 
Burns, softly. Give them the full band now, good 
and lively.” 

So saying, he seized the huge dinner-bell; Harvey 
took up the great fog-horn; Tom and Bob, the pot- 
covers and serving-tray, respectively. A hideous din, 
that was the combined blast of the deep horn, the 
clanging reverberation of the tray beaten upon by 
Bob’s stout fist, the bellowing of the dinner-bell and 
the clash of cymbals, roared and stormed through the 
walls of the Warren cottage, as though bedlam had 
broken loose. The rafters fairly groaned with it. 

Down the stairway appeared a pair of bare legs. 
Then the form and face of young Joe came into view. 
He stared for a moment wildly ‘at the occupants of 
the Warren easy chairs, and the next moment let out 
a whoop of delight. 

“Oh, hooray!” he yelled. “Come on, George. 
Come on, Arthur. Hurry up! Oh, my! but it’s 
Henry Bums.” 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 47 


A small avalanche of bare feet and bare legs poured 
down the stairs, belonging in all to Joe, Arthur, and 
George Warren. Three sturdy figures, clad in their 
night-clothes, leaped into the room, whooping and yell- 
ing, and descended in one concerted swoop upon the 
luckless Henry Burns. That young gentleman went 
down on the floor, where he afforded a seat for two 
of the Warren boys, while young Joe, with pretended 
fury, proceeded to pummel him, good-naturedly. 

The three remaining boys were quickly added to the 
heap, dragging the Warrens from off their fallen 
leader; and the turmoil and confusion that raged 
about the Warren sitting-room for a moment might 
have meant the wreck and ruin of a city home, adorned 
with bric-a-brac, but resulted in no more serious dam- 
age than a collection of bruises on the shins and elbows 
of the participants. 

Out of the confusion of arms and legs, however, 
each individual boy at length withdrew his own, more 
or less damaged. 

“ You’re a lot of villains ! ” exclaimed George War- 
ren. ‘‘ Wasn’t I sound asleep, though? But, oh! per- 
haps we are not glad to see you.” 

I tell you what we will do,” cried young Joe. 

We will hurry up and dress and go out in the kitchen 
and cook up a big omelette — ” 

The roar that greeted young Joe’s words drowned 
out the rest of the sentence. 

“Isn’t he a wonder, though!” exclaimed George 
Warren. “ Why, he had his supper only three hours 
and a half ago, and here he is talking about eating.” 

“ I don’t care about anything to eat,” declared 


48 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


young Joe. “ I thought the other fellows would like 
something.’’ 

He’s so thoughtful,” said Arthur. 

Young Joe looked longingly toward the kitchen. 

‘‘ Well, we are not going to keep you awake,” said 
Henry Burns at length, after they had talked over the 
day’s adventures. We thought you would like to 
have us call. We’ll be round in the morning, though.” 

But the Warrens wouldn’t hear of their going. 
There were beds enough in the roomy old house for 
all, as the rest of the family had not arrived. So up 
the stairs they scrambled. Twenty minutes later, the 
fact that young Joe was sleeping soundly was audibly 
in evidence. 

‘‘ He can’t keep me awake, though,” exclaimed Har- 
vey. “ I have had enough for one day to make me 
sleep, haven’t you, Henry ? ” 

But Henry Burns was asleep already. 

The next afternoon, as the crowd of boys sat about 
the Warren sitting-room, talking and planning, the 
tall figure of a man strode briskly up the road leading 
to the cottage. He was dressed in a suit of black, 
somewhat pretentious for the island population, with 
a white shirt-front in evidence, and on his head he 
wore a large, broad-brimmed soft hat. In his hand he 
carried a cane, which he swung with short, snappy 
strokes, as a man might who was out of temper. 

George Warren, from a window, observed his ap- 
proach. 

‘‘ Hello ! ” he exclaimed. Here comes the squire. 
Doesn’t look especially pleasant, either. I wonder 
what’s up.” 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 49 


That something or other was up ” was apparent 
in the squire’s manner and expression, as he walked 
hastily across the piazza and hammered on the door 
with the head of his cane. 

Good morning, Captain Ken — ” began young 

Joe. 

But he got no further. “Here, you stop that!” 
cried the squire, advancing into the room and raising 
his cane threateningly. “ Don’t you ever call me ^ Cap- 
tain Kendrick ’ again as long as you live. It’s no use 
for you to say you mistake me for him, for you don’t.” 

Young Joe disappeared. 

“Confound that Joe!” said Arthur. “He always 
says the wrong thing.” 

Captain Kendrick was the squire’s bitterest enemy; 
and it was a constant thorn in the squire's side that 
they really did resemble each other slightly. 

“ Good morning, squire,” said George Warren, 
politely. “Won’t you have a seat?” 

“No, I won’t!” said Squire Brackett, shortly. “I 
don’t need any seat to say what I want to say. I want 
to talk with those two young scamps over there.” 

Squire Brackett pointed angrily toward Jack Harvey 
and Henry Burns. 

“ What can we do for you, squire? ” inquired Henry 
Burns, quietly. 

“ Do for me ! ” repeated the squire, his voice rising 
higher. “ You have done enough for me already, I 
should say. What do you mean by running down my 
sailboat in the bay yesterday? Hadn’t you done 
enough to annoy me already, without smashing intQ 


50 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the Seagull and tearing a brand-new sail and ripping 
things up generally ? 

“ What can you do for me, indeed! Well, I’ll tell 
you what you can do: you can pay me forty dollars 
for a new sail; and you can pay for a new boom to 
replace the broken one. And there’s some rigging that 
was carried away. That is all I think of now.” 

The squire paused for breath. 

“ Yes, I guess that is about all,” remarked Henry 
Burns. 

But Jack Harvey was on his feet and facing the 
angry squire. '' See here,” he began, “ do you mean 
to say that that young chap we helped out of his scrape 
blames us for the wreck? Just bring him — ” 

Hold on. Jack,” said Henry Burns. “ Take it 
easy. We were not to blame, so let’s not get into a 
quarrel with the squire. Perhaps he has not heard 
just how it did happen.” 

‘‘ Haven’t I ? ” roared the squire. “ That’s impu- 
dence added to injury. Didn’t my son, Harry, tell 
me all about it — how you ran him down; how you 
steered in on to him when he was trying his best to 
keep clear of you? Haven’t I heard of it, indeed! I 
have heard all I want to about it. Now, there is only 
one thing left for you two young men to do, and that 
is to settle for the damages. That is all I want of 
you — and no impudence. 

‘‘ It won’t do you any good to try to lie out of it,” 
he added, as he started for the door. “ I’ve got no 
time to waste listening to denials. You can just come 
down to Dakin’s store and settle to-day or to-morrow, 
or there will be a lawsuit begun against both of you, 


Brackett discomfited si 


or whoever is responsible for you. I guess my son 
Harry’s word is good as a dozen of yours. He’s told 
me all about it. Good morning to you.” 

The squire swung himself angrily out of the door 
and strode away down the road, flipping off the grass- 
tops with his cane. 

Harvey and Henry Burns sat back in their chairs in 
amazement. 

‘‘ And to think that I helped that young cub bail 
out his boat! ” groaned Jack Harvey. 

Henry Burns snickered. 

“ It’s no joke, Jack,” he said. But I can’t help 
thinking of that young Brackett, sitting up there on 
the rail and watching you work. 

“ It is a bad scrape, too,” he added, more seriously. 

It does mean a real lawsuit. The squire is in the 
mood for it; and, the worst of it, there weren’t any 
witnesses. It is his word against ours. It’s a bad 
start for the summer, and no mistake.” 

A half-hour later, a procession of sober-faced boys 
strolled down into the village. Villagers, who had 
always liked Henry Burns, and had come to like Jack 
Harvey since he had atoned for many past pranks by 
gallantry at the end of the last season, greeted the 
new arrivals cordially. 

See you boys got into a leetle trouble with the 
squire,” remarked one of them. ‘‘ Well, that’s too 
bad. He’s a hard man when it comes to money mat- 
ters. What’s that? You say young Brackett was the 
one to blame? Pshaw! Well, I do declare. Hm!” 

Down in Rob Dakin’s grocery store there was the 
usual gathering of the villagers and fishermen, loun- 


52 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


ging about, with elbows on counters, half-astride sugar 
and cracker barrels, and a few of the more early 
comers occupying the choice seats about the sheet-iron 
stove. This inevitable centre of attraction, having 
done its duty faithfully throughout the winter, was, 
of course, now cold and not an object of especial 
beauty; but it still possessed that magnetic quality 
that pertains to a stove in a country store, to draw all 
loungers about it, and make it the common meeting- 
place. 

There was Billy Cook, from over across the cove, 
who was always barefoot, although a man of forty. 
There was Dave Benson, from the other side of the 
island, who had deposited a molasses- jug on the floor 
in a corner, and who now stood, apparently extracting 
some nourishment, and at least comfort, from a straw 
held between his teeth. There was Old Slade, from 
over on the bluff opposite, slyly cutting a sliver of salt 
fish from one in the bale upon which he sat. Also a 
half-dozen or more others. 

To this assembled group of his townsfolk, the squire, 
accompanied now by his hopeful son, Harry, was hold- 
ing forth, as the party of boys entered the door. 

“ Here they be now, squire,’' remarked Dave Ben- 
son. “Hello, boys! Ketchin’ any lobsters lately?” 

“Yes, here they are, and here they shall pay!” 
cried the squire, turning upon them. 

Jack Harvey advanced toward young Brackett. 

“ Do you dare say we ran you down? ” he inquired, 
angrily. 

“ Yes, you did,” answered young Brackett, sullenly, 
and sidling up close to his father. 


BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 58 


“ Why, of course they did ! exclaimed the squire. 
“ And it won’t do them any good — ” 

But at this point his remarks were interrupted. 

A strongly built, heavy-shouldered man entered the 
store, gave a loud, good-natured Haw ! Haw ! ” for 
no apparent reason except that his natural good spirits 
prompted him to, and bade everybody good evening 
in a voice that could be heard a quarter of a mile away. 

“ Why, hello, Cap’n Sam,” said Dave Benson, hail- 
ing him as he entered the doorway. Haven’t seen 
you much lately.” 

Captain Sam Curtis roared out a salutation in re- 
turn. If there was a voice within a radius of twenty 
miles about Southport that could equal that of Cap- 
tain Sam Curtis, no one had ever heard of it. It had 
a reputation all its own, far and wide. 

“ Why, hello, squire,” cried Captain Sam. He had 
failed to notice Harvey and Henry Burns for the mo- 
ment in the crowd. “ Good evening, squire, good 
evening. Guess you’re glad to get that ’ere boy of 
yours back again, ain’t yer? ” 

“ Yes,” answered the squire, irritably. 

‘‘ Well, I guess you better be! ” exclaimed Captain 
Sam. ‘‘ I thought he was a goner there, yesterday, 
when I saw the Seagull go kerflop.” 

‘‘ What! ” cried the squire. You saw it? How is 
that? I thought you said there weren’t any other 
boats around, Harry.” 

The squire turned to his son; but young Harry 
Brackett was vanishing out the store door. 

See it? I rather guess I did see it,” bawled Cap- 
tain Sam, warming up to his subject, while the vil- 


54 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


lagers sat up and paid attention. Why, I had the 
spy-glass on that ’ere youngster for twenty minutes 
before he did the trick. He was a-sailing that ’ere boat 
like a codfish trying to play ‘ Home, Sweet Home ’ on 
the planner.” 

“ Nonsense! ” roared the now infuriated squire, who 
observed the audience in the store snickering and 
nudging one another. “ Nonsense, I say. He can 
sail a boat just as good as you can. Why, he told me, 
only the other day, before I let him have the Sea- 
gull at all, how he won races last summer in a yacht 
off Marblehead.” 

‘‘ Mebbe so, squire,” retorted Captain Sam. ‘‘ But 
he was a-sailin’ this ’ere boat of yours like a mutton- 
head. Haw! Haw! That’s what he was a-doin’, 
squire. 

‘‘ Why, sir, squire, he was a-standing up in that 
boat, with his hat blown off, lookin’ as scared as you 
was last summer when you and old Witham took that 
sail down the bay with me. Haw ! Haw ! And that 
’ere boom was a-jumpin’, and that ’ere sail was a-slat- 
tin’ around like an old alpacker dress out on a clothes- 
line. 

‘ Gracious goodness ! ’ says I to myself, ‘ that 
youngster is a-scared out of his wits. He’ll jibe her, 
as sure as a hen sets.’ And he done it, too. Bang! 
she went, and the boom slat up against that other boat 
that was cornin’ down ’tother way — and I says, ‘ It’s 
all up with poor Harry.’ And so it would have been 
if it hadn’t been for the chaps in that other boat — 
Why, hello, Henry Bums ! And if there ain’t 
young Harvey, too,” cried Captain Sam, interrupting 



» < NONSENSE,’ ROARED THE INFURIATED SQUIRE, ‘ HE CAN 
SAIL A BOAT AS GOOD AS YOU CAN.’ ” 






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BRACKETT DISCOMFITED 65 


himself, as he espied the two boys. “ Why, that was 
your boat, eh? Well, I guess the squire is mightily 
obliged to you, both of yer. 

‘‘ Reckon you’ve thanked these young chaps, good 
and hearty, for saving young Harry, eh ? ” cried Cap- 
tain Sam, advancing to the squire. 

But, to the utter amazement of Captain Sam, the 
squire turned upon his heel, with an exclamation of 
disgust, dashed out of the store, and disappeared in 
the direction taken shortly before by his son, while a 
roar of laughter from the assembled villagers followed 
after him. 


CHAPTER V. 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 

H arvey and Henry Burns left the store to- 
gether in high spirits, surrounded by their 
companions, loudly jubilant over the turn 
affairs had taken. It was growing dusk, and Rob 
Dakin was preparing for the usual illumination of his 
store with one oil-lamp. Harvey and Henry Burns 
started for the shore, but were stopped by a hail from 
George Warren. 

Come on over to the post-office with me,^’ he said. 
“ You’re in no hurry for supper. It’s my turn to go 
for the mail, and we are expecting a letter from father 
up in Benton.” 

So the two boys retraced their steps, and the three 
friends went along up the road together. 

“We haven’t a very extensive correspondence to 
look after, eh, Jack?” remarked Henry Burns; “but 
we’ll go along for company’s sake. My aunt never 
writes to me, and I think I never received but two 
letters in my life. They were from old Mrs. New- 
come.” 

“ I never got any,” declared Harvey. “ My dad 
says to me at the beginning of the summer, ‘ Where 
are you going ? ’ and I say, ‘ Oh, down in the bay,’ or 

S6 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 57 


wherever it is I am going. Then he says, ‘ Well, take 
care of yourself,’ and forgets all about me, except he 
sends money down to me regularly — and more when 
I ask him.” 

The boy’s remark was, in fact, an unconscious criti- 
cism of the elder Harvey, and accounted, perhaps, for 
some of Harvey’s past adventures which were not 
altogether commendable. Harvey’s father was of the 
rough and ready sort. He had made money in the 
Western gold-fields, where he had started out as a 
miner and prospector. Now he was enjoying it in 
generous fashion, and denied his family nothing. He 
had a theory that a boy that had the right stuff in 
him,” as he put it, would make his way without any 
particular care taken of him; and he was content to 
allow his son. Jack, to do whatever he pleased. A 
convenient arrangement, by the way, which also left 
Mr. Harvey free to do whatever he pleased, without 
the worry of family affairs. 

The boys walked through the fields, up a gentle in- 
cline of the land, which led to the general higher level 
of the island, overlooking the bay and the islands in 
the distance. They gazed back presently upon a pleas- 
ing prospect. 

There was the cove, sweeping in to the left, along 
the bluff opposite, which was high and rock-ribbed. 
At the head of the cove the shores were of clean, fine 
sand, broken here and there at intervals by a few 
patches of clam-flats, bared at low water. Out from 
where the boys stood, straight ahead rolled the bay, 
with an unbroken view away across to the cape, some 
five miles off. A thoroughfare, or reach, extended 


58 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


south and eastward from the cape, formed by the 
mainland and a chain of islands. Then, to the south, 
the bay extended far, broken only by some islands a 
few miles away. 

At anchor in the cove lay the Warren boys’ sail- 
boat, the Spray, and the larger yacht, the Viking. 

“ Well, George,” said Henry Burns, with his right 
arm over the other’s shoulder, “ it looks like some fun, 
now that the trouble with Squire Brackett is cleared 
away.” 

‘‘ Great! ” exclaimed George Warren. 

The post-office, called such by courtesy, the office 
consisting of the spare room of whatsoever fisherman 
or farmer happened to be honoured with Uncle Sam’s 
appointment, was about a mile from the harbour of 
Southport. It was, in this case, in the house of one 
Jerry Bryant, and was about a quarter of a mile, or 
less, from the western shore of the island, where a 
small cove made in from that bay. 

“ Good evening, Mr. Bryant,” said George Warren, 
as they arrived at the post-office door. Mail in yet ? ” 

“ Be here right away,” replied the postmaster. “ I 
saw Jeff’s packet coming in a moment ago. There he 
comes now up the lane.” 

Jeff Hackett, whose commission it was to fetch the 
mail across from the mainland in a small sloop daily, 
now appeared with a mail-sack over his shoulder. 

The formality of receiving the attenuated mail-sack 
and sorting its somewhat meagre contents, being duly 
observed, Postmaster Bryant threw open a small slid- 
ing door, poked his head out, and was ready for in- 
quiries. 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 59 


‘‘ Anything for the Warren cottage? ’’ 

Not a thing.” 

‘‘Anything for the neighbours, a few doors below ?” 

“ Nothing for them, either.” 

“ Looks as though we had come over for nothing,” 
said George Warren. “ Too bad, but you fellows 
don’t mind the walk, do you ? ” 

“Not a bit,” answered Henry Burns. 

They were departing, when the postmaster hailed 
them. 

“ Say,” he called out, “ who is Jack Harvey? He 
is the chap that caught Chambers, isn’t he? Doesn’t 
he stop over near you, somewhere?” 

“ Here I am,” said Harvey, taken by surprise. 
“ What do you want? ” 

“ Why, I’ve got a letter for you,” said the post- 
master. “ It has been here three days. I couldn’t 
find out where you were.” 

“ Well, that’s odd,” exclaimed Harvey, stepping 
back and receiving the envelope. “ I never got one 
before. Say, we came over for something, after all.” 

He tore open the envelope and read the letter en- 
closed. 

“ Whew ! ” he exclaimed as he finished. “ That’s 
tough.” And he gave a disconsolate whistle. 

“ What’s the matter? Nothing bad, I hope,” asked 
Henry Burns. 

In reply, Harvey handed him the letter. It was 
dated from Boston, |^d read as follows: 

“ My dear Jack : — '§orry to have to write you 
bad news, but you are bia enough to stand it. I had 


60 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


to work hard when I was a boy, and perhaps you may 
now, but you’ll come out all right in the end. I don’t 
know just where I stand, myself. Investments have 
gone wrong, and Saunders has brought suit in court, 
claiming title to the land where the mine is. May 
beat him out. Don’t know. He is a rascal, but may 
win. 

“ Now I haven’t got a dollar to send you, and don’t 
see where I’ll get any all summer for you, as I shall 
need every cent to pay bills. I have got to go out to 
borrow money to pay lawyers, too, to fight the case. 

‘‘Too bad, but you will have to come home, or shift 
for yourself for the summer. Let me know, and I’ll 
send money for your fare, if you are coming. 

“ Affectionately, your dad, 

“ William Harvey.” 

An hour later. Jack Harvey and Henry Bums sat in 
the comfortable cabin of the Viking, talking matters 
over. The yacht swung lazily at anchor in the still 
cove. A fire burned in the little stove, and the smoke 
wreathed out of a funnel on the starboard side. The 
boys were superintending the baking of a pan of 
muffins in a sheet-iron oven, while two swinging-lan- 
terns gave them light. 

“ I declare I don’t know what to do about it,” said 
Harvey. “You see, I never thought about getting 
along without money before. All I have had to do 
is just ask for it. Now, you see. I’m behind on my 
allowance. We paid Reed thirty-five dollars, you 
know, for wintering and painting the boat, and some- 
thing more for some new pieces of rigging. That, 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 61 

and what I’ve spent for clothes, has cleaned me 
out.” 

“Yes, but I owe you twelve dollars on the boat 
account, which I’m going to pay as soon as I receive 
my own allowance from my aunt,” said Henry 
Burns. 

“ Well, that won’t go very far,” responded Harvey, 
gloomily. “We owe — or shall owe — for the freight 
on that box of provisions that’s coming from Benton; 
we have got to hire a tender to take the place of the 
old one I sold last fall. We can’t keep on borrowing 
this one all summer — ” 

“ Never mind,” interrupted Henry Bums. “ You 
know it costs us scarcely anything to live down here. 
We can catch all the fish and lobsters we want, dig 
clams, and all that sort of thing. All we need to buy 
is a little meal and flour and coffee and sugar from 
time to time, and we’ll do that all right on my allow- 
ance.” 

“ That’s kind in you, Henry,” said Harvey, warmly, 
“ but I don’t quite like the idea of living all summer 
on you.” 

“ Why not ? ” demanded Henry Burns, and added, 
quickly, “ You used to provide everything for all your 
crew last summer, didn’t you?” 

“Why, yes, I did,” replied Harvey. “Ha! ha! 
catch one of them buying anything. But of course 
they couldn’t buy much of anything, anyway. They 
hadn’t any money. But somehow this is different. 
You see, — well — the fact is, I’m not quite used to 
being hard up. And I don’t exactly like to take it. 
Of course, I know just how you mean it, too.” 


62 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Yes, but think how small our expenses need be if 
we are careful,” urged Henry Bums. “ We live right 
aboard here all the time, you know.” 

“ Yes,” answered Harvey, “ but it all counts up 
more than you think, especially when one is short of 
money. You can't run a big boat like this all summer 
without expense. It’s a rope here and a block there, 
and a spare anchor we need, and a lot of little 
things all the time. I know how it was on the Sur- 
prise/^ 

Their conversation was interrupted at this point by 
a voice close alongside. The canoe had glided quietly 
up, and the next moment Tom and Bob were descend- 
ing into the cabin. 

“ My, but you chaps have elegant quarters down 
here,” exclaimed Tom. “We envy you your summer 
aboard here, don’t we. Bob? ” 

Henry Burns and Harvey, somewhat taken aback, 
made no reply, and looked embarrassed. 

“Why, what’s up?” asked Tom, observing some- 
thing was wrong. “No more trouble, I hope.” 

Harvey explained the situation. 

“ That need not be so bad,” said Tom. “ It doesn’t 
cost but little to live here. We spend scarcely any- 
thing, do we. Bob? We can lend you something to 
help you through. You don’t want to think of giving 
up the summer.” 

“ I dare say I could stick it out all right,” said 
Harvey, “ if I was just camping once more. That 
doesn’t cost much. It is this boat that bothers me. 
We can’t run it for nothing.” 

“ Well, then,” exclaimed Henry Burns, vigorously. 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 63 


with more demonstrativeness than was usual with him, 
“ ril tell you what we will do. We’ll make the boat 
work. We will make it pay its own way, and pay us 
something besides. We’ll fit out and go down among 
the islands fishing, and take our fish over to Stoneland 
and sell them, the same as the fishermen do. There 
won’t be a fortune in it, with a boat no bigger than 
this, but it will support us, and more too, after paying 
all expenses.” 

‘‘ Henry,” cried Harvey, gratefully, “ you’re a brick ! 
I thought of that once, and I’d have proposed it if 
this had been the old Surprise; but I didn’t know as 
you would be willing to do it with this boat. It 
dirties a craft up so.” 

That doesn’t hurt a boat any,” said Henry Burns. 

The fishermen down around Wilton’s Harbour take 
out sailing parties all summer, and their boats are 
always handsome and clean, and they don’t smell 
fishy. And the men always use them for fishing in 
the fall and spring, when the fishing is at its best. It 
simply means that we have got to take out all the 
nice fittings from the cabin, stow them away some- 
where on shore, fit out with some tackle, and go ahead. 
At the end of the summer we will overhaul the Viking 
from deck to keelson, take out every piece of ballast 
in her, clean it and dry it and put it back, and paint 
the yacht over after we wash everything inside and 
out. She will be just as fine as she was before.” 

“That’s great!” exclaimed Tom Harris. “You 
can do it all right, too. I wish we had a boat. We’d 
go along with you, wouldn’t we. Bob?” 

“ I’d like nothing better,” answered Bob. 


64 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Then come along with us,” said Harvey. “ We 
really need two more to handle this boat properly. 
You can fit yourselves out with fishing-tackle, and 
we’ll all share in the catch.” 

Hooray ! we’ll do it,” cried Bob. “ But we don’t 
want a share of the catch. We will be glad enough 
to go for the fun of it.” 

Yes, but this is part business,” said Henry Burns. 
“You must have some share in every trip you make 
with us. How will two-thirds for us and a third for 
you do, as we own the boat? ” 

“ That is more than fair,” replied Tom. 

“ Then it’s a bargain, eh. Jack? ” said Henry; and, 
as the other gave hearty assent, he added, “ We’ll go 
about it right away to-morrow, if the weather is 
good.” 

When George Warren heard of the plan the next 
day, however, he was not equally elated. “ It’s the 
thing to do, I guess,” he said, but added, “ It’s going 
to keep you away from Southport; that is the only 
drawback.” 

“ No, only part of the time,” said Henry Burns. 
“ We are not going to try to get rich, only to support 
ourselves. We shall be back and forth all summer. 
We’ll have some fun here, too.” 

Then the boys went and hunted up Captain Sam 
Curtis. 

“ Yes, you can do it all right,” said Captain Sam, 
when he had heard of the plan. “ But it’s rough work. 
You can count on that. You want to get right out 
to big Loon Island — you know, with the little one. 
Duck Island, alongside. There’s where the cod are. 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 65 


out along them reefs; and you can set a couple of 
short trawls for hake. May get some runs of mack- 
erel, too, later. I’ll get you a couple of second-hand 
pieces of trawl cheap. They’ll do all right for one 
season. But it ain’t just like bay-sailing all the time, 
you know, though you may not get caught. When 
it’s rough, it’s rough, though. 

“ And there’s one thing you’ve got to look out for,” 
added Captain Sam. “ Of course the men around t^iis 
coast will be fair to you and won’t bother. But there’s 
a rough crowd that comes up from the eastward. 
They may not take kindly to a pack of boys coming 
in on the fishing-grounds. Just keep your weather 
eye out; that’s all.” 

The boys went about their preparations eagerly. 
Already they had begun removing the fine fittings 
from the cabin of the Viking, carrying them up to the 
Warren cottage, and putting the yacht in condition 
for rougher usage. They worked hard all day. At 
night, however, an unexpected event occurred, which 
delayed their fishing-trip until the next week. 

George Warren came down to the shore that eve- 
ning with another letter for Jack Harvey, much to the 
latter’s amazement. 

‘‘ Hang it ! ” he exclaimed, as George Warren 
handed the letter over. “ They say troubles never 
come singly. I wonder if here’s more. I hope things 
are no worse at home — Hello, it isn’t from Boston. 
It’s from Benton. Who can have written me from 
there? ” 

He tore open the envelope hastily. The letter, 
badly written in an uncouth scrawl, read thus: 


66 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Dear Jack : — You remember you told us fellows 
last year that we could come down to the island again 
this year and live in the tent, the same as we did before 
you got the boat, and you would see that we got along 
all right. Me and George Baker have got the money 
to pay our fares on the boat, and Tim and Allan will 
work part of their passage. Dan Davis, who’s on the 
boat, told us you was down there. So we’ll be along 
pretty soon if you don’t write and stop us. 

‘‘ So long, 

“Joe Hinman.” 

“ Well, here’s a mess,” said Harvey, ruefully, and 
looking sorely puzzled. “ I’d clean forgotten that 
promise I made to the crew last year, that they could 
come down, and I’d take care of them. You see, I 
thought I was going to have plenty of money; but 
I don’t know just what to do now. Would you write 
and tell them not to come? ” 

“ No, let them come,” said Henry Burns. “ They’ll 
get along somehow. We will help them out, and 
they’ll have your tent to live in.” 

“ All right,” said Harvey. “ I hate to disappoint 
them. They don’t get much fun at home. I’ll send 
them word to come, as long as you are willing.” 

So it happened that a few days later there disem- 
barked from the river steamer a grinning quartette 
of boys. The youngest, Tim Reardon by name, was 
barefoot; and the others, namely, Joe Hinman, 
George Baker, and Allan Harding, were not vastly the 
better off in the matter of dress. This was Harvey’s 
“ crew,” who had sailed the bay with him for several 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 67 


years, in the yacht Surprise, and had camped with 
him on a point that formed one of the boundaries 
of a little cove, some three-quarters of a mile down the 
island from where Tom and Bob were encamped. 

The united forces of the boys, including the War- 
rens, made things comfortable for the new arrivals in 
short order. Harvey's old tent, which had been stored 
away in Captain Sam’s loft for the winter, was 
brought out and loaded aboard the Viking; and the 
entire party sailed down alongshore, and unloaded at 
Harvey’s former camping-ground, where there was a 
grove of trees and a good spring close by. The tent 
was quickly set up, the bunks fashioned, a share of 
the Viking's store of provisions carried ashore, and 
everything made shipshape. 

Now,” said Harvey, addressing his crew, after he 
had confided the news of his embarrassed circum- 
stances, “I’ll help you out all I can, and you’ll get 
along all right, with fishing and clamming. But, see 
here, no more shines like we had before. I know I 
was in for it, too. But no more hooking salmon out 
of the nets. And let other people’s lobster-pots alone, 
or I won’t look out for you.” 

“ Oh, we’ll be all right. Jack,” cried the ragged 
campers, gleefully; while little Tim Reardon, stand- 
ing on his head and hands in an ecstasy of delight, 
seemed to wave an acquiescence with his bare feet. 

“ That’s your doing,” said Harvey, thoughtfully, 
turning to Tom and Bob. “ Since you saved my life 
the crew really have behaved themselves.” 

Two days later, the bare feet of Tim Reardon bore 
him, breathless, to the door of the other tent, where 


68 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Harvey and Henry Burns sat chatting with Tom and 
Bob. 

“Say, Jack,” he gasped out, “ you just want to 
hurry up quick and get down into the Thoroughfare. 
They’re going to raise the Surprise. I got a ride on 
behind a wagon coming up the island this morning, 
and . two men were talking about it. One of them 
said he heard Squire Brackett say that that yacht 
down in the Thoroughfare was anybody’s property 
now, as it had been abandoned, and he calculated it 
could be floated again, and he’d bring it up some day 
and surprise you fellows. But he hasn’t started to do 
it yet, and so it’s still yours, isn’t it? If he can raise 
it, we can, can’t we? ” 

Harvey sprang to his feet. 

“ Raise it ! ” he exclaimed. “ Why, I’ve thought 
all along of trying it some day. Captain Sam said 
last fall he thought it might be done. But I had this 
other boat to attend to, and then I was called home. 
We’ll go after it this very afternoon. What do you 
say, Henry?” 

“ Yesi, and I think I have a scheme to help float 
her,” replied Henry Burns. 

Acting on Henry Burns’s suggestion then, the boys 
proceeded to the store, where, in a spare room, Rob 
Dakin kept a stock of small empty casks which he 
sold to the fishermen now and then for use as buoys. 
They hired the whole supply, some twoscore, agree- 
ing to pay for the use of them and bring them back 
uninjured. These they loaded hastily aboard the 
Viking, having sent word in the meantime to the 
Warren boys. They, joining in heartily, soon had 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 69 


sail on their own boat, the Spray, and went on ahead, 
down the coast of the island. 

Completing- the loading of the Viking, and taking 
aboard an extra supply of tackle, borrowed for the 
occasion, Henry Burns and Harvey got up sail and 
set out after the Spray, stopping off the cove below 
to pick up the others of Harvey’s crew. They over- 
hauled the Spray some miles down the coast, later in 
the afternoon, and thence led the way toward the 
Thoroughfare. They had the wind almost abeam 
from the westward, and went along at a good clip in 
a smooth sea. 

That evening at sundown they sailed into the 
Thoroughfare. This was a stretch of water afford- 
ing a somewhat involved and difficult passage between 
the Eastern and Western Bays, the two bays being 
so designated according to a partial division of these 
waters by Grand Island. The island was some thir- 
teen miles long, lying lengthwise with its head point- 
ing about northeast and the foot southwest. 

The waters of the Thoroughfare were winding, 
flowing amid a small chain of islands at the foot of 
Grand Island. The channel was a crooked one, the 
deeper water lying along this shore or that, and known 
only to local fishermen and to the boys who had 
cruised there. 

Henry Bums, on the lookout forward, presently 
gave a shout of warning. 

‘‘ There she is. Jack,” he cried, pointing ahead to 
where the mast of a yacht protruded above r/ater 
some three-fourths of its length. “ There’s the ledge, 
too. Look out and not get aground.” 


70 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Oh, I know this channel like a book,” said Har- 
vey, and demonstrated his assertion by bringing the 
Viking to, close up under the lee of the submerged 
yacht, in deep water. 

The yacht Surprise, sunken where it had been in 
collision with the very yacht that had now come to 
its rescue, lay hung upon a shelving reef, with its bow 
nearer to the surface than its stern. The tide was at 
the last of its ebb, and it was clear that by another 
hour there would be only about two feet of water over 
the forward part of the boat and about five feet over 
the stern. 

We are in luck,” cried Harvey. “ She has 
worked up higher on the reef, somehow, since last 
year, either by the tides, or perhaps some ice formed 
here in the winter and forced her up. She was deep 
under water when I last saw her.” 

“ But it’s a wonder the mast did not go,” he added. 

The bobstay went when we smashed into the Vi- 
king; and the mast wasn’t any too firm when we 
last saw it. It wouldn’t have stood after we struck 
if we hadn’t let the mainsail go on the run.” 

Evening was coming on, but the boys lost no time 
in going to work. Getting into the dory that they 
had hired for the season as a tender, Henry Bums 
and Harvey stepped out carefully on to the reef, and 
made their way down its slippery sides to the bow of 
the Surprise. Then, with trousers rolled up and di- 
vested of jackets and shirts, they proceeded, as soon as 
the tide had fallen, to nail some strips of canvas over 
the hole smashed in the bow. They fastened it with 
battens, putting several layers on, one over another. 


HARVEY GETS BAD NEWS 71 


‘‘ It isn’t a handsome job,” said Henry Burns, 
finally ; “ but the water will not run in there as fast 
as we can pump it out. It’s a fair start.” 

The yacht Spray came in now and brought up 
alongside the Viking, 

“What are you going to do?” inquired George 
Warren. 

“ Why, everybody has got to go in for a swim,” 
answered Henry Burns, setting the example by throw- 
ing off his remaining garments. The others, willing 
enough at all times for that, followed. 

Henry Burns next brought forth several coils of 
rope, which he had busied himself with, on the voy- 
age down, knotting it at regular intervals into loops. 

“ There,” said he, “ the Surprise lies, luckily, on 
these irregular rocks. We have got to duck under 
and pass these ropes underneath the keel, wherever 
there is a chance. Then we’ll bring the ends up on 
either side and make them fast aboard, wherever there 
is a thing to hitch to. Then we’ll attach the kegs to 
the loops. See?” 

“ Good for you, Henry ! ” cried Harvey, enthusi- 
astically. “ You always have some scheme in your 
head, don’t you ? ” 

“ Wait and see if it works,” said Henry Burns, 
modestly. 

“ Ouch ! ” cried young Joe, as the boys splashed 
overboard. “ This water is like ice.” 

“ Oh, shut up, Joe ! ” said Arthur Warren. “ Just 
think of that hot coffee we are going to have for 
supper.” 

The boys worked eagerly and hurriedly, for the 


72 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


waters of Samoset Bay had not, indeed, fully recov- 
ered from their long winter’s chill, and the sun had 
sunk behind the distant hills. The ropes, passed be- 
neath on one side, were grasped by numbed but skil- 
ful hands on the other. In a quarter of an hour they 
had some six or eight of these passed under and made 
fast, and the empty casks, tightly stopped with cork 
bungs, tied into the loopholes. This, in itself, was no 
easy task. The buoyant casks persisted in bobbing 
up to the surface, escaping now and then from their 
hands. Two of the boys would seize a cask by the 
lashings that had been passed about it and fairly ride 
it below the surface with their united weight. Then, 
holding their breath under water, they would make 
it fast to a loop. 

It was dark when they had finished ; and a hungry, 
shivering crowd of boys they were, as they danced 
about the decks and scrambled into their clothes. But 
the cabins of the Viking and the Spray were soon 
made inviting, with warmth and the odours of hot 
coffee and cooking food. They were only too glad 
to go below and enjoy both. 

Hello, Henry,” called young Joe from the deck 
of the Spray, some time later, as the boys were hang- 
ing their lanterns forward to warn any stray fisher- 
man that might sail through in the night; “ the Sur- 
prise doesn’t seem to come up very fast.” 

“ Well, wait till to-morrow and see,” answered 
Henry Burns. 

They were soon sleeping soundly, weary with the 
day’s hard work. 


CHAPTER VI. 


OUT TO THE FISHING - GROUNDS 

W HILE the boys were thus concerned down 
in the Thoroughfare, at the foot of Grand 
Island, certain events were happening away 
over across the Western Bay that might perhaps affect 
them later. 

If a direct line were drawn across the middle of 
Grand Island, and extended straight across the West- 
ern Bay to the neighbouring mainland, it would touch 
that shore in about the locality of the town of Bell- 
port. This was a little community, dull in winter, and 
flourishing in summer with the advent of cottagers 
and visitors from the little city of Mayville, some 
miles up along the shore of the bay, and from the 
towns farther north up the river. It was a favourite 
resort of yachtsmen in a modest way. 

On the afternoon that young Harry Brackett had 
quietly withdrawn from the crowd of villagers in the 
store at Southport, coincident with the disclosures of 
Captain Sam regarding his adventure in the squire’s 
sailboat, he had not seen fit to return to the shelter 
of his father’s roof. Instead, he had taken the night 
boat over to Mayville, and thence, the following morn- 
ing, made his way to Bellport, where he had some 
bosom friends after his own heart. 


73 


74 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


What this meant was that, instead of entering into 
the healthful sports that made the place of especial 
attraction, he and they were more often to be found 
loitering about the office of the principal hotel, the 
Bellport House, or playing at billiards in a room off 
the office, or occupying the veranda chairs, with their 
feet upon the railing. 

Young Brackett had been engaged one afternoon, 
soon following his arrival, in, a game of billiards with 
a companion, when he was accosted by another ac- 
quaintance. 

“ Hello, Brackett,” said the newcomer. ‘‘ You’re 
quite a stranger. How are things over at Southport? 
Going to stay at home now for awhile? ” 

This salutation, commonplace as it was, had, it 
seemed, an effect upon a tall, light-complexioned man, 
who was seated in a corner of the room, where he had 
been enjoying his cigar and idly watching the game. 
For he looked up quickly toward the boy addressed, 
and, during the continuation of the game, certainly 
paid more attention to Harry Brackett than to the 
play itself. 

At the conclusion of the game, young Brackett’s 
companions bade him good day and departed. There- 
upon the stranger arose and advanced toward Harry 
Brackett, smiling pleasantly. Stroking a heavy blond 
moustache with the fingers of his left hand and pick- 
ing up one of the cues with the other, he said : 

“ You play a good game, don’t you? Shall we have 
another ? I’ll be pleased to pay for it, you know. Glad 
to have some one that plays, as well as you do for an 
opponent.” 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 75 


It being inbred in young Brackett's nature never to 
decline to enjoy himself at another’s expense, he ac- 
cepted the invitation at once. Moreover, he was 
pleased at the compliment — which was, perhaps, 
more in the nature of flattery, as he was but indif- 
ferently skilful at best. 

“ Do you come from around this way ? ” asked the 
stranger, as they proceeded to play. 

“ Yes,” answered young Brackett. “ My home is 
at Southport. Harry Brackett is my name. I’m 
Squire Brackett’s son.” 

“ Indeed ! ” said the stranger, as though the answer 
was a matter of information, whereas he had dis- 
tinctly heard the boy’s companion refer to him as 
coming from Southport. “ But you are not an 
islander. You’ve been about some, I can see.” 

Most persons would have said that it would have 
been better for the boy if he had had more of the 
sturdy qualities of the islanders and less of those 
manners to which the stranger referred. But young 
Brackett took the remark as a compliment, as it was 
intended, and answered, “ Oh, yes. I’ve been about a 
good deal — up Boston way and that sort of thing — 
Benton and different cities. But I live at Southport. 
My father owns a good deal of the place, you see.” 

‘‘ Well, I’m glad to know you, Mr. Brackett,” said 
the stranger, with a renewed show of cordiality. My 
name is Carleton. I come from Boston, too. I am 
just living around at any place I take a fancy to for 
the summer. Oh, by the way, I came here to look 
at some boats. Do you know of a good one over 
your way that a man might buy ? ” 


76 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Why, no, I don’t know as I do,” replied young 
Brackett. “ That is, not what you would want. 
There’s only one elegant boat, and I guess she is not 
for sale. She belongs to some boys. They’d better 
sell her, though, if they get the chance. They think 
they are smart, but they can’t sail her a little bit.” 

Hm ! ” ejaculated Mr. Carleton, and made a 
mental note of the other’s evident antipathy to the 
boys he referred to. 

“ You don’t mean the Viking? ” he inquired. 
“ Somebody in the town here was speaking about her 
the other day.” 

‘‘ Yes, that’s the one,” replied young Brackett. But 
I don’t think you can buy her.” 

“ Oh, most any one will sell a thing, if you only 
offer him enough,” said Mr. Carleton, carelessly. 
“ Somehow I think she is about the boat I want. I 
had a talk with a captain here the other day, and he 
said she was the best sailer about here. 

“ Oh, by the way,” he added, apparently intent upon 
his game and studying a shot with great care, “ did 
you ever hear of anything queer about that yacht — 
anything queer discovered about her ? ” 

‘‘Why, no!” cried young Brackett, in a tone of 
surprise. “ Is there anything queer about her ? Do 
you know about her? That is a funny question.” 

If Mr. Carleton, making his shot unmoved, had got 
exactly the information he was after, he did not betray 
the least sign of it. Instead, he laughed and said : 

“ No, no. You don’t understand. I mean any ‘ out ’ 
about the boat. Has she any faults, I mean. Does 
she sail under? Run her counters under? Knock 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 77 


down in a wind and heavy sea? Carry a bad weather 
helm — or still worse, a lee helm? You know what 
I mean. When a man is buying a boat he wants to 
know if she is all right.” 

He said it easily, in his deep, full voice, that seemed 
to emerge from behind his heavy moustache, without 
his lips moving. 

“ Oh, I understand,” said young Brackett. Then 
he added, mindful of his anger at the owners of the 
Viking, “I guess the boat is good enough — better 
than the crowd that owns her.” 

Well, I want you to do something for me,” con- 
tinued Mr. Carleton. “ I think I want her. When 
you return, to Southport, I wish you would make them 
an offer for me. Do you know what they paid for 
her?” 

“ Why, I think she brought only about eight hun- 
dred dollars,” said young Brackett. ‘‘ She’s worth 
twice that, I guess. But there wasn’t anybody to buy 
her. She went cheap.” 

‘‘Tell them you know of a party that will give them 
fifteen hundred dollars for the boat,” said Mr. Carle- 
ton. “ And if you buy her for me for that price I 
will give you two hundred dollars. The boat is worth 
all of that from what I hear.” 

Young Brackett’s eyes opened wide in surprise. 

“ Oh, I am in earnest,” said the man. “ I can 
afford it. I’m out for a good time this summer. I’ll 
be much obliged if you will do the business for me. 
Business is business, and I don’t ask you to go to the 
trouble for nothing. Here’s something on account.” 

He handed young Brackett a ten-dollar bill, which 


78 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the boy pocketed promptly. It seemed a queer trans- 
action, but he was satisfied. 

And, say, don’t mention my name,” said Mr. 
Carleton, carelessly. “You see, if a man that has 
any money is known to be looking for a particular 
boat, they always put the price up.” 

“ All right, I won’t,” replied Harry Brackett. 

“ I hate to tackle that fellow, Harvey,” he thought, 
as he turned the matter over in his mind. “ But it’s 
worth trying for two hundred dollars.” 

Then, in great elation, he proceeded to beat Mr. 
Carleton at the game; though that person’s intimate 
friends, wherever they might be, would have laughed 
at his attempts to make poor shots instead of good 
ones. It pays to be a loser sometimes, was his way of 
looking at it. At least, he and Harry Brackett parted 
excellent friends. 

The day came in warm and pleasant down in the 
Thoroughfare, and the boys were early astir. 

“Any more swimming to do to-day, Henry?” in- 
quired George Warren, as the fires were building in 
the cabin stoves, preparatory for breakfast. 

“ Only a plunge for one of us,” answered Henry. 
“ I’ll do that. And that reminds me; I’d better do it 
before breakfast, for one doesn’t want to swim right 
after eating. Just throw us a line and trip your 
anchor, and we will draw you up close astern of the 
Surprise, opposite us.” 

The Warren boys did as he requested, and the two 
boats were soon almost side by side, astern of the 
sunken yacht. Then Henry Burns, getting George 
Warren to unhook the tackle from the throat of the 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 79 


mainsail of the Spray, did likewise aboard the Viking. 
Taking the two pieces of tackle in hand, while the 
boys let the halyards run free, he ducked down at the 
stern of the sunken yacht and hooked in the tackle 
to one of the stout ropes that had been, passed under 
the boat’s keel. 

“ That will do till after breakfast,” he said, com- 
ing to the surface and clambering out aboard the 
Viking. 

“ No, let’s have a pull on the thing now,” exclaimed 
Harvey. I’m eager to see the old Surprise above 
water — that is, if she is going to float.” 

‘‘ All right,” said Henry Burns. “ Come on, fel- 
lows.” 

The boys on each yacht caught hold of the halyards 
with a will, and hoisted as they would have done to 
raise the throat of the mainsail. The tackle, hooked 
on to the stern of the sunken yacht, was at first as 
so much dead weight on their hands. Then, of a 
sudden, it began to yield ever so little, and the hal- 
yards began to come home. 

“ She’s coming up, boys ! ” cried Harvey, gleefully. 

Pull now, good and hard.” 

But the next moment something seemed to have 
given way. The ropes ran loose in their hands, and- 
the boys that held the ends sprawled over on the 
decks. 

Oh, confound it ! The rope must have slipped 
off the stern,” exclaimed Harvey. 

No, it hasn’t,” cried Henry Burns, joyfully. 

There she comes to the surface. Look ! Look ! 


80 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Quick, get in the slack of the ropes and make them 
fast/’ 

The yacht buoyed by the numerous casks and lifted 
by the tackle, had, indeed, hung on bottom only for 
a moment. Then, released by the strain from the 
ledge and the seaweeds and slime that had gathered 
about it, it had come to the surface with a rush. 
Loaded with ballast as it was, however, and with the 
weight of water still within it, it could not rise above 
the surface. Its rail showed just at the top of water, 
and the cabin deck slightly above. 

“ Hooray ! that’s great ! ” cried Harvey, slapping 
Henry Burns on the shoulder. “ That will do now. 
Let’s have some breakfast.” 

“ It’s about time,” said young Joe. 

They spent little time at breakfast, however, for 
they were eager to resume. With each yacht along- 
side the Surprise, they began bailing that yacht out 
with pails tied to ropes, which they slung aboard. 
When they had lightened her sufficiently, two of them 
sprang over into the cockpit and bailed to better ad- 
vantage there. 

Then, while they took turns at the pump, the others 
got up a part of the floors, and began lifting out the 
pieces of pig-iron ballast, passing them aboard the 
other two yachts. Finally they rigged the tackle on to 
the mast of the Surprise and, with great care so as 
not to wrench the boat, lifted it clear and lowered it 
into the water alongside. 

Now it would be safe to beach the yacht; and this 
they did at high tide that afternoon, towing it in on 
to a beach that made down in a thin strip between 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 81 


the ledges, and drawing it up as far as it would float, 
where they made it fast with a line passed ashore to 
a small spruce-tree. 

It had been a good job, and Henry Burns surveyed 
it proudly. But he merely remarked to young Joe, 
“Well, she’s up, isn’t she?” 

The yacht Surprise was at present a sorry-looking 
sight. The bottom was very foul, covered with long 
streamers of slimy grass and encrusted with barnacles. 
These had fastened, too, upon the mast and spars; 
and inside the yacht was in the same condition. The 
sails were slime-covered and rotten. Everything was 
snarled and tangled, twisted and broken about the 
rigging. The bowsprit had been broken off short in 
the collision of the fall before. This, with the carry- 
ing away of the bobstay, necessitated the taking out 
of the mast now. Rust from the iron ballast had 
stained much of the woodwork. 

“ There’s a job,” said Harvey, eying the wreck. 
“ There’s a good week’s work, and more, in scraping 
and cleaning her, and cleaning that ballast. We 
wanted to get to fishing, too.” 

“ Well, you go ahead and leave us to begin the 
work,” said Joe Hinman, speaking for himself and the 
crew. “ It’s no more than fair that we should do it, 
seeing as we are to have the use of the yacht this 
summer. Just leave us a little coffee and some corn- 
meal and some bread and a piece of pork and one of 
the frying-pans. We’ll catch fish, and live down here 
for a week, till you come for us.” 

“Where will you stay?” inquired Harvey. “The 
other yacht is going back to Southport, you know,” 


82 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Up in the old shack there,” replied Joe, pointing 
back to where there stood a tumble-down shelter that 
had been used at some time to store a scant crop of 
hay that the island produced. “Give us a blanket 
apiece and we’ll get along. You’ve got to go back 
to the harbour before you go fishing, and you can get 
ours down at the camp.” 

“ All right,” said Harvey, “ I guess we’ll do it. 
You can run things, Joe, and there won’t anybody 
trouble you.” 

So with this prophecy — which might or might not 
hold good — Harvey proceeded to install his crew in 
temporary possession of the yacht Surprise, and of the 
little island where they had dragged it ashore, which 
was one of the chain of narrow islands that lay off 
Grand Island. 

Late that afternoon the two yachts sailed out of the 
Thoroughfare and went on to Southport, leaving the 
crew masters of their island domain and of the wreck. 

The next morning Henry Burns and Jack Harvey 
were up before the sun, for Harvey had waked and 
found a light west wind blowing, and this was a fair 
one for the trip down the bay. They roused the camp- 
ers in the tent on the point, and soon Tom and Bob, 
their canoe loaded with blankets and provisions, were 
paddling out to the Viking. They made two trips, 
and then, leaving the canoe up on shore alongside the 
tent, fastened that good and snug. Henry Burns took 
them aboard the Viking in the tender. 

The mooring which they had put down for the 
season was slipped, the sail hoisted, a parting toot- 
toot sounded on the great horn in the direction of 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 83 


the Warren cottage, and the Viking's voyage in 
search of work had begun. 

The course the Viking was now shaping was about 
due south from the harbour they had just left. Far 
away to the southward, some twenty-two miles distant, 
lay the islands they were seeking, at the seaward en- 
trance to East Samoset Bay. Some six miles ahead on 
the course lay a group of small islands, on one of which 
was erected a lighthouse. Beyond these, to the south- 
west, a few miles away, lay two great islands. North 
Haven and South Haven. Off to the eastward from 
the foot of these, across a bay of some six miles’ 
width, lay Loon Island, with little Duck Island close 
adjacent. 

As the day advanced, the promise of wind did not, 
however, have fulfilment. It died away with the 
burning of the sun, and when they had come to within 
about a mile of the first group of islands, it threatened 
to die away altogether. It sufficed, however, to waft 
them into a little cove making into one of these islands 
at about two hours before noon. 

“ Well, we’ve got to Clam Island, anyway,” said 
Harvey. We’ll load up our baskets, and be in time 
to catch the afternoon’s southerly.” 

Clam Island well merited its name. Its shores were 
long stretches of mud-flats, corrugated everywhere 
with thousands of clam-holes. It would not be high 
tide until three in the afternoon, and the flats were 
now lying bare. 

Equipped with baskets and hoes, the boys set to 
work, with jackets off and trousers rolled up. In two 
hours’ time, each one of them had filled a bushel 


84 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


basket to the brim, for the clams were thrown out by 
dozens at every turn of a hoe. 

“ That’s enough bait for a start,” said Harvey, 
wiping his forehead. ‘‘We can buy more of the fisher- 
men if we run short.” 

“ My ! ” exclaimed Henry Burns, straightening 
himself up with an effort. “ My back feels as though 
it had nails driven into it. I don’t wonder so many 
of these old fishermen stoop.” 

The day was very hot, and the boys went in for a 
swim. Then, when they had eaten, they stood out 
of the little harbour; but the wind had dropped almost 
entirely away, and, with the tide against them, they 
scarce made headway. 

“ I’m afraid we won’t make Loon Island to-day,” 
said Tom. 

“ Oh, perhaps so,” said Harvey. “ See, there’s a 
line of breeze way down below.” 

A darkening of the water some miles distant showed 
that a southerly breeze was coming in. They got the 
first puffs of it presently, and trimmed their sails for 
a long beat down the bay. 

The Viking was a good boat on the wind, the seas 
did not roll up to any great size, as the wind had come 
up so late in the day, and it was easy, pleasant sailing 
in the bright summer afternoon. Still, the breeze was 
too light for any good progress, and they had only 
reached Hawk Island, on which the lighthouse stood, 
and which was fifteen miles from Loon Island, by two 
o’clock. 

They were going down a long reach of the bay 
now that rolled some six miles wide, between North 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 85 


and South Haven on the one hand, to starboard, and 
a great island on the other. Back and forth they 
tacked all the afternoon, with the tide, turning to ebb 
just after three o’clock, to help them. 

By six o’clock they were two miles off the southeast- 
ern shore of South Haven,, with great Loon Island, its 
high hills looming up against the sky, four miles 
across the bay. 

“ Well, shall we try for it? ” asked Harvey, eagerly 
scanning the sky. 

It looked tempting, for there had come one of those 
little, deceptive stirrings of the air that happen at 
times before sundown when the wind makes a last 
dying flurry before quieting for the night. The sun, 
just tipping the crests of the far-off western moun- 
tains across the bay, had turned the western sky into 
flame. Loon Island looked close aboard. So they 
kept on. 

Then by another hour the glow had faded from the 
sky and the waters blackened and the shadows began 
to die away on the hills of Loon Island, and all the 
landscape grew gray and indistinct. They were two 
miles above the harbour, when the bluffs that marked 
it blended into the dark mass of its surroundings and 
there was no guide left for them to follow. The wind 
had fallen almost to nothing. 

‘‘ We can’t miss it,” said Harvey, stoutly. “ I’ve 
been in there once before.” 

“ No, we’re all right,” said Henry Burns. He went 
forward and stood looking off eagerly for some sign 
of light on shore. The island grew black in the twi- 
light, and then was only a vague, indefinite object. 


86 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


They were in great spirits, though, — so they made 
out, — but it was just a bit dreary for all that, almost 
drifting down with the tide, and only a few puffs of 
wind now and then, with not even a light in a fis.her- 
man’s cabin showing on that shore. 

Then, too, the very calmness of the night made 
sounds more distinct. And just a little to seaward, a 
mile or two below where the harbour should be, there 
sounded the heaving of the ground-swell against the 
reefs that lay about Loon Island so thickly. And the 
sound of the shattering of a wave as it drops down 
upon a reef in the night, amid strange waters, is not 
a cheerful thing to hear. 

Perhaps it was this doleful, ominous sound more 
than anything else that somehow took the enthusiasm 
out of them. It was such an uncertain sound, that 
subdued crashing upon the reefs. Was it a half-mile 
away? Was it a mile? Was it near? It was hard to 
tell. 

Just how uncertain they did feel, and just how 
anxious they had grown in the last half-hour of dark- 
ness, was best revealed by Henry Burns when, from 
his watch forward, he said suddenly, but very quietly, 
“ There are the lights. Jack. We’re close in.” 

It was his manner of expression when he was most 
deeply affected — a calm, modulated tone that had a 
world of meaning in it. 

A-h-h ! ” exclaimed Harvey. There was no mis- 
taking the relief in his expression. I knew they 
ought to be here, but they were a long time showing.” 

“ Well, I don’t mind saying they could have showed 
before and suited me better,” said Bob. “ Say, those 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 87 


reefs have a creepy, shivery sound in the night, don’t 
they? I’d rather be in the harbour.” 

There was a twinkling of lights to guide them now, 
for a little flotilla of fishing-boats lay snug within, 
each with its harbour light set; and the lamps in the 
fishermen’s houses that were here and there straggling 
along the shores of the large and small island facing 
the harbour gleamed out from many a kitchen window. 

They drifted slowly in under the shadow of the 
hills of Loon Island and entered the little thorough- 
fare that ran between the two islands, at a quarter to 
nine o’clock. 

“ We are in luck at the finish, at any rate,” said 
Henry Burns, presently, picking up the boat-hook. 
“ Jack, there’s a vacant buoy to make fast to.” 

The buoy, a circular object painted white, showed 
a little way ofif the windward bow, and Jack Harvey 
luffed up to it. Henry Burns caught the mooring; 
Tom and Bob had the mainsail on the run in a twin- 
kling; and a moment more they were lying safe and 
snug at their voyage’s end. 

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of heavy sweeps, 
labouring and grinding in rowlocks, told them that 
another boat was coming into the harbour from out- 
side with the aid of an “ ash breeze,” the wind hav- 
ing died wholly away. The boat came in close to 
where they were lying. From their cabin, as they 
sat eating supper, they could hear a man’s voice, rough 
and heavy, complaining apparently of the bad luck 
he had* had in getting caught outside, deserted by the 
breeze. 

The next moment the young yachtsmen got a rude 


88 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


surprise. The dishes they had set out on the up- 
turned leaves of the centreboard table rattled, and the 
yacht shook with the shock caused by the other boat 
clumsily bumping into them astern. Then the rough 
voice sounded in their ears: 

“ Git away from that mooring ! Don’t yer know 
I have the right ter that? What are yer lyin’ here 
for?” 

The yachtsmen rushed out on deck. The boat they 
saw just astern was a dingy, odd-shaped little sailboat, 
about twenty-five feet long, sharp at both ends, with 
the stern queerly perked up into a point like the tail 
of a duck. A thickly bearded, swarthy man stood at 
her tiller, where he had been directing, roughly, the 
efforts of two youths, who had worked the boat in 
with the sweeps. 

“What’s the matter with you?” cried Harvey, 
angrily. “ What do you mean by bumping into us ? 
We’ve got our lights up.” 

“ You git off from that mooring, I tell you ! ” cried 
the man, fiercely. “ Ain’t I had it all summer ? What 
right have you got interfering? ” 

The man’s manner was so threatening and his voice 
so full of the fury that told of a temper easily aroused, 
that a less aggressive youth than Harvey might have 
been daunted. But Harvey had got his bearings and 
knew where he was. 

“ No, you don’t! ” he replied, sharply. “ You can’t 
bully us, so it won’t do you any good to try. This 
is a government buoy, and the first boat up to it has 
the right to use it unless the revenue men complain. 
You can push your old tub out of the way.” 


THE FISHING - GROUNDS 89 


“ Better tell him we will give him a line astern if 
he wants it/’ suggested Henry Burns. “ That won’t 
do any harm.” 

“ I won’t,” exclaimed Harvey. “ He’s taken 
enough paint off the Viking already, I dare say. But ” 
— he added — ‘‘ you can if you want to. I don’t 
care.” 

So Henry Burns made the offer. 

The answer the man made was to order the two 
youths to work the “ pinkey,” as the fishermen call 
his style of craft, up to the buoy, where he could cut 
the yachtsmen adrift. 

Harvey sprang to the bow of the Viking, drew her 
up close to the buoy by taking in on the slack of the 
rope, and held her there by a few turns. Then he 
snatched up the boat-hook. Henry Burns and Tom 
and Bob likewise armed themselves with the sweeps 
of the Viking and a piece of spar. They stood ready 
to repel an attack. 

It looked serious. But at this point the two youths 
aboard the strange boat failed to obey orders. There 
arose, thereupon, a furious dispute aboard the other 
craft, the youths remonstrating in what seemed to be 
a broken English, and the man railing at them fiercely 
in English that was plain, but still had not just the 
Yankee accent; in the course of which the man at the 
tiller rushed upon one of them, and would have struck 
him had not the other youth interfered. 

It ended in the wrathful stranger taking his craft 
ahead, quite a distance up the harbour, ignoring 
Henry Burns’s offer to moor astern of the Viking. 

“ Just as well he didn’t stay,” commented Henry 


90 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Burns. ‘‘ I don’t think he would improve on longer 
acquaintance, do you, Jack?” 

‘‘ Well, hardly,” said Harvey. I guess he must 
be one of those chaps Captain Sam spoke of.” 

“ I wonder if he will make us any more trouble to- 
night,” remarked Bob. 

‘‘No, he’ll have to fight it out with his own crew 
first,” said Harvey. “ But I’ll just keep an eye out 
for a little while. You fellows can turn in.” 

And Harvey kept vigil till eleven o’clock, muffled 
in a greatcoat, outside, until he nearly fell over asleep 
in the cockpit. Then he rolled in below, and was 
sound asleep before he could get his boots off. 

The Viking was not molested through the night, 
though so wearied were the yachtsmen with their day’s 
sailing that a man might have come aboard blowing 
a fog-horn and not have aroused them from their deep 
slumber. 


CHAPTER VIL 


NEAR THE REEFS 

T he sound of voices calling cheerily over the 
water and the creaking of blocks awoke the 
boys a little after four o'clock the next morn- 
ing. Henry Bums dragged himself drowsily to one 
of the cabin ports and looked out. It was a pictur- 
esque sight, for a small fleet of fishing-craft, of all 
sorts and shapes and sizes, was passing out of the 
thoroughfare, on its way to the fishing-grounds, with 
a light morning breeze that just filled the sails. 

Back of the harbour the land went up gradually for 
a way, dotted here and there with the snug, tidy 
homes of the fishermen, until it rose in the centre of 
the island, forming hills of some considerable height 
— the first landfall for ships coming in from sea at 
that point. Now the tops of the hills glinted with the 
rays of the morning sun, which soon streamed down 
the slopes and made the whole island glow with 
warmth and brightness. 

The pleasing landscape had at that moment, how- 
ever, no particular attraction for Henry Burns. He 
gave a groan of self-commiseration, tumbled back into 
his warm blanket, and remarked: 

Oh, but these fishermen do begin the day early ! 

91 


92 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Say, we don’t have to, do we. Jack? I vote for an- 
other hour’s sleep.” 

“ Make it four,” said Bob, who had been eying 
Henry Burns with apprehension. 

Harvey and Tom muttered an assent that was not 
distinguishable. 

By five o’clock, however, the sounds of men and 
boats had them awake again; and by another half- 
hour they were breakfasting on their way out of the 
harbour, beating against a light southerly. 

“Do you know the fishing-grounds. Jack?” in- 
quired Henry Burns. 

“ Only in a general way,” replied Harvey. “ But 
we’ll follow the others, and get in somewhere near 
them.” 

They stood out of the harbour and headed down 
the coast of the island, which extended seaward thus 
for some four miles. Harvey, at the wheel, was 
studying carefully a chart of the waters; Henry 
Burns and Tom and Bob, arrayed in oilskins, were 
busily engaged in “ shucking ” clams into some 
wooden buckets. 

Presently an unexpected hail came across the water 
to them from a sailboat they had overhauled. 

“ Why, hello,” called Harvey, and added to his 
companions, “ Here’s luck. It’s Will Hackett, Jeff’s 
brother. You know Jeff, who carries the mails in 
his packet.” 

“What are you chaps doing way down here? 
Aren’t you lost?” asked the other, a stalwart, red- 
faced youth, who^ with a crew composed of one small 


NEAR THE REEFS 93 

boy, was navigating a rough-looking sloop that looked 
as though it had seen a score of hard summers. 

Harvey explained. 

“ Well, you won’t get rich,” said Will Hackett, 
bringing his craft in to head along with them. “ But 
I’ll show you where to fish. The depth of water 
makes all the difference around here. They call me 
lucky, but there’s something in knowing where to 
drop a line. I’m down only for the day, but you 
follow me around and you’ll know where to go next 
time.” 

When they had told him of the adventure of the 
night before. Will Hackett slapped a heavy fist down 
upon his knee. 

Good for you ! ” he cried. ‘‘ So you’ve run foul 
of old Jim Martel, have you? Why, I offered to 
thrash him and his two boys only three weeks ago, 
for hanging around after dark where I had a trawl 
set. They come from over eastward, and quarrel with 
everybody; and I wouldn’t trust one of them with a 
rotten rope. You’d better keep away from them, 
though. He’s got a hot temper, has Jim Martel.” 

They were in the swell from the open sea now, 
and the Viking and its companion, the Grade, were 
lifting and dipping amid the long, rolling waves. 
About them, and ahead here and there, clouds of 
spray, cast like chaff into the air, told of reefs ; some- 
times marked with a spindle, or a cask set on the top 
of a pole, if it lay near the course; sometimes with 
a thin point of the ledge rising a few feet above 
water. 

Some three miles down the coast of Loon Island 


94 rival campers afloat 


a reef of several rods in length broke the force of the 
waves from seaward; and as these dashed in upon it 
they crashed into a thousand particles, which gleamed 
transiently with the colours of the rainbow as the sun 
shone upon the drops. Close under the lee of this 
reef went Will Hackett, and cast anchor a few rods 
away, not far from another boat, already at anchor. 
The Viking followed, and likewise anchored at a little 
distance, and sails were furled. 

Quickly the heavy cod-lines, equipped with two 
hooks each, and bulky sinker, were dropped over- 
board; and the boys waited expectantly, their baits 
close to bottom. 

A prize to the one that gets the first cod,’" said 
Harvey. 

What’s the prize ? ” asked Bob. 

“ Why, he can keep the cod’s head,” said Henry 
Burns. “ Hello ! ” he exclaimed a moment later. 
“ I’ve hooked on bottom, I guess. No, it must be 
seaweed.” 

Henry Burns began hauling in with considerable 
effort. 

“ Why, it’s a fish ! ” he exclaimed the next moment. 
“ There’s something moving on the end of the line. 
But he doesn’t fight any. Comes up like so much 
lead.” 

That’s the way they act,” said Harvey. “ They 
don’t make any fuss. But you’ve got a big one.” 

Henry Burns, hauling with all his might, hand 
over hand, presently brought to the surface an enor- 
mous cod. 

“ There’s a whole dinner for a hotel in that fellow,” 


NEAR THE REEFS 


95 


said he. And, indeed, the fish would weigh fully 
twenty pounds. 

‘‘ Not quite so lively sport as catching mackerel, is 
it?” he remarked, looking at his hands, which were 
reddened with the chafing of the hard line. 

“ No, this is more like work,” said Harvey. “ But 
they won’t all run anywhere near as big as that. 
You’ve caught one of the old settlers.” 

The fish were biting in earnest now, and the boys 
were bringing them in over the rail almost as fast 
as they could bait and cast overboard. By noon they 
had two great baskets full, stowed away in the cabin 
out of the sun, and were glad enough to take a long 
hour for rest, feasting on one of the smallest of their 
catch, rolled in meal and fried to a tempting crisp- 
ness. 

Then near sundown they were among the first to 
weigh anchor and run for harbour, tired but elated 
over their first day’s rough work. 

Will Hackett had advised them how to dispose of 
their catch. A trader at the head of the harbour 
bought for salting down all that the fishermen did 
not sell alive to the schooners that carried them in 
huge wells, deep in their holds, to the Portland or 
Boston markets. 

So they ran in with the other craft, and took their 
catch in to his dock in their dory. 

The trader, a small, wiry, bright-eyed Yankee, 
scrutinized Henry Burns and Jack Harvey sharply, as 
they entered the little den which bore the imposing 
word Office ” over its door. 

“ So you’re fishermen, eh ? ” he remarked. “ Rather 


96 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


a fine craft you’ve brought down for the work. Guess 
you might manage to keep alive somehow if you didn’t 
fish for a living.” 

He was interested, though, when they told him 
their circumstances. 

** Good ! ” he exclaimed. “ Well, I’m paying a dol- 
lar a hundredweight for cod caught on hand-lines, and 
less for trawl-caught. But you don’t calculate to do 
trawl-fishing, I reckon.” 

“ Not just yet,” answered Harvey. 

They hitched the tackle at the end of the pier on to 
the baskets of fish, and the cod were hoisted up to the 
scales. 

“ Three hundred and sixty pounds, I make it,” said 
the trader. “ That’s three dollars and sixty cents.” 

The boys went away, clinking three big silver dol- 
lars, a fifty-cent piece, and a dime, and passing the 
money from hand to hand, admiringly. 

‘‘ That never seemed like very much money to me 
before,” said Harvey, thoughtfully. “ It makes a dif- 
ference whether you earn it or not — and how, 
doesn’t it? ” 

“ It’s all right for the first day,” said Henry Burns. 
“ We’ll do better as we get the hang of it. And then 
later, if we get a catch of mackerel on the first run of 
the fish, why, we’ve got the boat to make a fast trip 
over to Stoneland, and sell them to the hotel. There’ll 
be money in that.” 

The next morning, beating out of the harbour early, 
they had an unpleasant experience. 

They had anchored off the dock at the head of the 
harbour, and had just begun to work their way out 


NEAR THE REEFS 


97 


through the channel, which was there quite narrow, 
against a light southwest breeze. Henry Burns had 
the wheel, with Harvey tending sheet, and Tom and 
Bob working the single jib that they had set. A little 
way ahead of them a boat was coming in, running 
free. 

There’s our friend,” remarked Henry Burns, not- 
ing the pinkey’s sharp, queer stern. ‘‘ It’s old Martel 
coming in from under-running his hake-trawls. We’ll 
try to keep clear of him.” 

But it seemed this was not wholly possible. 

The Viking was standing up to clear a buoy a short 
distance ahead, which marked the channel, and would 
just barely fetch by it if she was not headed off any. 
It became apparent soon, however, that the skipper 
of the pinkey was heading so that, if one or the other 
did not give way, there would be a collision. 

Better give him the horn,” suggested Tom, as 
the boys watched the oncoming boat. 

No, I don’t think we need to,” said Henry Burns. 
“ They see us. Look, there they are pointing. Old 
Martel knows what he is doing. It’s just a case of 
bullying. We’ve got the right of way over a boat 
running free, and he knows it.” 

That’s right, Henry,” exclaimed Harvey. ‘‘ We 
might as well show him we know our rights. Keep 
her on her course, and don’t give way an inch.” 

There was plenty of water on the pinkey’s star- 
board hand, and the course was free there; but for 
the Viking to head off the wind meant failure to clear 
the buoy, and another tack, with loss of time. It was 
all a mere trifle, of course, but they knew the skipper 


98 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


of the pinkey was trying to crowd them; and they 
were bound to stand on their rights. 

The pinkey came up perilously close; then, just 
barely in time, sheered off so that its boom almost 
came aboard the Viking. Henry Burns, unmoved, 
had held the Viking close into the wind, without giv- 
ing way an inch even when it had looked as though 
the two boats must come together. 

‘‘ We might as well fight it out right now with old 
Martel,” he said, quietly. “ Perhaps he will let us 
alone if he finds we’re not afraid of him.” 

Captain Jim Martel’s anger at being outmanoeuvred 
was not lessened by the figure of Jack Harvey stand- 
ing up astern and grinning at him derisively. He 
glared back angrily at the young yachtsmen. 

But Harvey’s blood was up, too. 

“ Why don’t you learn to sail that old tub of 
yours?” he called out, sneeringly. 

Martel’s answer was to put his helm hard down, 
bring his boat about, and stand up on the track of the 
Viking. 

“ Come on, we’ll give you a tow out to sea again,” 
cried Harvey. 

Go easy. Jack,” said Henry Burns. ‘‘ He’s the 
pepperiest skipper I’ve seen in all Samoset Bay. Better 
let him alone. He’s angry enough already.” 

‘‘ Yes, but he’s to blame,” said Harvey. “ When 
anybody hits me, I hit back.” And forthwith he made 
gestures toward the other boat, as of urging it to 
hurry, by beckoning; and he coiled a bit of the free 
end of the main-sheet and threw it back over the stern, 


NEAR THE REEFS 99 

indicating that it was for the other craft to pick up, 
so as to be towed by the Viking. 

The effect on Skipper Martel was, indeed, amus- 
ing. He sprang up from his seat, handed the tiller 
to one of his boys and rushed forward, where he 
stood, shaking a fist at the crew of the Viking and 
calling out angrily. 

He made a comical figure, with his black, shaggy 
head wagging, and with his angry sputtering and his 
pretence of pursuit, whereas the Viking was leaving 
the pinkey rapidly astern. Henry Burns joined in 
the laughter, but he repeated his warning : “ Better 
let him alone. Jack.” 

Which warning, now that the skipper of the pinkey 
strode aft again. Jack Harvey finally heeded. 

“ Funny how that fellow gets furious over nothing,” 
Q said. “We’ll have to have some fun with him.” 

“ You like an exciting sort of fun, don’t you. Jack? ” 
said Henry Burns, smiling. But it was plain he took 
it more seriously. 

They fished for four days more with varying suc- 
cess, and with a Sunday intervening. They were 
getting toughened to the work; their hands growing 
calloused with the hard cod-lines; their knowledge 
of working their boat in fough water and heavy 
weather increasing daily; tFeir/muscles strengthened 
with the exercise; and their appetites so keen that 
young Joe might have envied them. 

One day it rained, but they went out just the same, 
equipped for it in oilskins, rubber boots, and tarpau- 
lins, and made a good haul. 

“ Well, here’s our last day for a week or so,” said 
LOfa 


100 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Henry Burns, as they stood out one morning for the 
fishing-grounds. It’s back to Southport to-morrow. 
We mustn’t get too rich all at once.” 

It was a day of uncertain flaws of wind, puffy and 
squally, after a day of heavy clouds. They were sail- 
ing under reefed mainsail, for at one moment the 
squalls would descend sharp and treacherous, though 
there would succeed intervals when there was hardly 
wind enough to fill the sails. They worked down to 
the fishing-grounds and tried several places, but with 
no great success. Some of the boats put back to har- 
bour early in the afternoon, dissatisfied with the con- 
ditions, as it was evidently an off day for cod. Others, 
including the Viking, held on, hoping for better luck. 

Then, of a sudden, the wind fell away completely 
two hours before sunset, and the sea was calm, save 
for the ground-swell, which heaved up into waves that 
did not break, but in which the Viking rolled and 
pitched and tugged at anchor. 

“ Perhaps we will get a sunset breeze and be able 
to run back,” said Harvey. 

But evidently the fishermen, more weather-wise, 
knew better ; for some of the lighter, open boats furled 
their sails snug, got out their sweeps, and prepared to 
row laboriously back the three long miles. Others 
of the big boats made ready to lie out for the night. 

“ Well, we’ve got a good anchor and a new line,” 
said Harvey. There’s nothing rotten about the 
Viking's gear. We’ll lie as snug out here as in the 
harbour.” 

They tripped the anchor just off bottom, got out 
the sweeps, and worked the Viking back a dozen rods 


NEAR THE REEFS 


101 


or so from the shallow water about the reef. Then 
they dropped anchor again, with plenty of slack to 
the rope, to let the yacht ride easy with less strain 
on the anchorage. There were a half-dozen boats 
within hailing distance, similarly anchored, including 
Skipper Martel and his pinkey. 

We’re in good company,” said Henry Burns, 
laughing. “ But I’m glad Jack isn’t near enough to 
stir him up.” 

Evening came on, and the little fleet resembled a 
village afloat, with the tiny wreaths of smoke curling 
up from the cabin-funnels. The night was clear over- 
head and the hills of Loon Island shone purple in the 
waning sunlight, streaked here and there with broad 
patches of black shadow. The ground-swell broke 
upon the reef heavily, sending up a shower of spray 
high in air, weird and grimly beautiful in the twilight. 

That’s good music to sleep by,” said Bob, as the 
booming from the reef came to their ears while they 
sat at supper. 

Yes, it’s all right on a night like this,” assented 
Harvey. You’ll sleep as sound as in the tent.” 

It grew dark, and the little fleet set its lanterns, 
though it was mere conformance to custom in this case, 
since no craft ever made a thoroughfare where they 
lay. 

‘‘What do you think?” asked Henry Burns two 
hours later, as he and Harvey stood outside, taking 
a survey of the sea and sky, and making sure once 
more that their anchor-rope was clear and well 
hitched — “ What do you think. Jack, do we need to 
keep watch ? ” 


102 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


He had quite a bump of caution for a youth who 
did not hesitate at times to do things that others con- 
sidered reckless. 

‘‘ Oh, it’s still as a mill-pond,” replied Harvey. 
‘‘ We’ve had the clearing-off blow, and there are the 
clouds banking up off to southward, where the breeze 
will come from in the morning. See, there isn’t a man 
out on any of the other boats. No, we’ll just turn 
in and sleep like kittens in a basket.” 

So they went below. 

The roaring of the reef was, in truth, a not all un- 
pleasant sound to those who felt safe and snug in its 
lee, securely anchored. To be sure, there was a grim 
suggestion in the crashing of the swell against its 
hollows and angles at first, but the steady repetition 
of this became in time almost monotonous. There 
was the heavy, roaring, thudding sound, as the swell 
surged in against its firm base. Then this blended into 
a crisp rushing, as the waters raced along its sides; 
and then a crash as of shattered glass as the mass 
thrown up broke in mid-air and fell back in countless 
fragments of white, frothing water upon the cold rocks. 

The boys went off to sleep with this ceaseless play of 
the waters in their ears. 

The hours of the night passed one by one. And if 
any boy aboard the Viking roused up through their 
passing and heard the surf-play upon the reef, there 
was no more menace in it than before. Just the same 
steady hammering of water upon rock. 

Yet Harvey’s prophecy of sound sleep was not 
wholly borne out — at least, in the case of Henry 
Purns. was a good sleeper under ordinary con- 


NEAR THE REEFS 


103 


ditions, but he roused up several times and listened to 
the wash of the seas. 

“ It may be grand music/’ he muttered once, drow- 
sily, “ but I can’t say I like it quite so near.” 

Something awoke him again an hour later. His 
perception of it as he half-sat up was that it sounded 
like something grating against the side of the Viking. 

He sat still for a moment and listened. The sound 
was not repeated. 

I thought I heard something alongside,” he said 
aloud, but talking to himself. Did you hear any- 
thing, Jack? ” he inquired in a louder tone, as Harvey 
stirred uneasily. 

There was no reply. Harvey had not wakened. 

“ Hm ! guess I’ve got what my aunt calls the 
fidgets,” muttered Henry Burns, rolling up in his 
blanket once more. ‘‘ It’s that confounded reef. No, 
it’s no use. I don’t like the sound of it at night. 
Pshaw ! I’ll go to sleep, though, and forget it.” 

Something just alongside the Viking that looked 
surprisingly like a dory, with some sort of a figure 
crouched down in it, — and which may or may not 
have caused the sound that had awakened Henry 
Burns, — lay quiet there for ten, fifteen, twenty min- 
utes, — a good half-hour in all. Then it moved away 
from the side of the boat, passed on ahead for a 
moment, and stole softly away over the waves. 

The booming of the seas upon the reefs ! How the 
hollow roar of it sounded far over the waters. How 
the thin wisps of spray, like so much smoke, shot up 
through the darkness, white and ghostlike! 

A strange phenomenon ! But if by chance there had 


104 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


been some shipwrecked man clinging to that reef, he 
might have fancied that the rocks to which he clung 
were drifting in the sea — strangely shifting ground 
and drawing up closer to a yacht at anchor. 

Or was it something different? Was the yacht 
really no longer lying anchor-bound? And was it 
drifting, drifting slowly down upon the rocks, soon 
to be lifted high upon a crest of the ground-swell — 
and then to be dropped down heavily upon one of the 
streaming, foam-covered points of ledge? 

Crash and crash again ! Was it louder and heavier 
than before ? 

Henry Burns’s eyes opened wearily. 

The sound of the sea seemed stunning. What was 
it about the noise that seemed more fearful, more ter- 
rifying, more dreadful than before? 

He sprang up now. Yes, there could be no doubt. 
Something was wrong. The sea rising, perhaps. The 
wind blowing up. There it came, again and again. It 
was louder — and louder still. A mind works slowly 
brought quickly from sleep; but Henry Burns was 
wide awake now. 

The boys had turned in half-undressed, to be ready 
for an early start in the morning. Henry Burns 
slipped on his trousers, scrambling about in the dark- 
ness. 

“ Jack, get up! ” he cried, seizing his sleeping com- 
rade and shaking him roughly. “ Wake up, fellows 
— quick! Something’s the matter.” 

He burst open the cabin doors and rushed out on 
deck. 

No, there was no delusion here. The reef lay close 


NEAR THE REEFS 105 

aboard. The din of the beating, crashing waters 
seemed deafening. The Viking, dipping and falling 
with the long swells, was going slowly but surely 
down upon it. 

Henry Burns reached for a short sheath-knife that 
he carried when aboard the yacht, moved quickly 
along from the stern to the foot of the mast, and cut 
the stops with which the sail had been furled. Then 
he dashed to the bulkhead, and, without stopping to 
cast off the turns from the cleats, seized the throat 
and peak halyards and began hauling desperately. 

The next moment, Tom and Bob had tumbled for- 
ward and caught hold with him; while Harvey, 
emerging half-awake from the companionway, seized 
the wheel. 

Three athletic pairs of arms had the mainsail up 
quicker than it had ever been set before. 

‘‘ Quick now with the jib! ” cried Harvey. “ That 
will head us off, if there’s any breeze to save us. Jump 
it for dear life, boys.” 

They needed no urging. It was set almost before 
Harvey had finished speaking. Tom, holding it off 
as far as he could reach to windward, stood on the 
weather-bow, shivering in the cool night air and glar- 
ing fearfully at the rocks close ahead. The white 
spray, writhing up half as high as the mast, seemed 
to be coming nearer and nearer. 

Henry Burns, having seen the mainsail and jib set, 
and realizing there was nothing left to do only to 
hope that there was wind enough stirring to fill the 
sails, dashed down into the cabin. He brought up 
the spare anchor, which he proceeded to bend on to 


106 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


a coil of rope. But the danger had passed before he 
had it ready to cast astern. 

The yacht, like a living thing, seeming to feel its 
own peril, had caught just the faintest of the wander- 
ing night airs in its great white sail. The tide, ebb- 
ing, was urging it down to destruction. Then, as the 
wind caught the sail, the boat responded slightly, but 
began to head up, pointing fair at the black rocks. 
Harvey let the sheet run off. The jib, held far out 
to windward, caught another faint puff of air and 
headed the yacht slowly but surely off the wind. 

The yacht had saved itself. Gliding ever so slowly, 
it skirted along the edge of the reef for a moment, 
till Harvey had brought it around fairly before the 
wind. Then there was one final contest between 
breeze and tide. The yacht hung upon the waves 
sluggishly, so close in upon the reefs that the spray, 
dashing over, wetted the boys aboard. 

Then it moved slowly up against the tide, rising 
and falling heavily upon the seas, but gaining a little, 
and then more. 

It was enough. The spare anchor went overboard, 
the yacht brought up and held. They dropped the 
sails once more, unharmed, with the black, hungry 
reef stretching out its white arms of foam and spray, 
vainly, balked of their prey. 

“ 0-oh ! said Harvey, sinking down on a seat. 

That was a close shave. But what could have made 
that rope part? That’s what I can’t understand. It 
was a brand-new one.” 

They found out a half-hour later, after they had 
gone below and put on their jackets and warmed them- 


NEAR THE REEFS 


107 


selves and had returned on deck. They drew the end 
of the line aboard and examined it by a lantern in the 
cabin. 

It was not broken. The end was clean, without a 
frayed strand in it. It had been severed with a single 
sweep of a fisherman’s knife, sharp as a razor-blade. 

‘‘Ah!” ejaculated Harvey. “ We 'might have 
guessed. It’s old Martel’s work. We’ll have the law 
on him for this.” 

But when they peered across the water with the 
coming daylight there was no pink-stern sloop to be 
seen, because it had gone out with the tide long before, 
just as they went adrift, and was out upon the sea 
now, standing off to the eastward. 

“ Well, we have learned two lessons,” said Henry 
Burns. “ One is to have the spare anchor where it 
can be got at quicker when it’s needed. I’d have gone 
for that first if I hadn’t remembered that we had it 
buried under that lot of stuff forward.” 

“ And what’s the other lesson ? ” asked Bob. 

“ It’s, to be never without a knife when you are 
sailing a boat,” answered Henry Bums. “ I heard a 
fisherman say that once, and so I bought one to wear 
in a belt aboard here. But I never thought just what 
it would mean to be without one when every second 
counts.” 

“ I wish young Joe were here,” remarked Tom. 

“ Why’s that?” asked Harvey. 

“ He would have the coffee on by this time,” replied 
Tom. “ That night air sent the shivers through me.” 

“ Something else sent the shivers through me,” re- 
marked Henry Burns. “ I’ll go and start the fire.” 


CHAPTER VIIL 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 

J OE HINMAN, with his crew of three, composed 
of George Baker, Allan Harding, and little Tim 
Reardon, did not intend to be idle during the 
absence of the yacht Viking. The yacht Surprise , when 
it should be patched up, cleaned, and once more 
floated, and equipped with a spare set of sails that 
had been left in the Viking when she came into the 
possession of Harvey and Henry Burns, was to become 
the property for the summer of Joe and the rest of 
the crew. The morning after the Viking had left the 
Thoroughfare, in company with the Spray, the boys 
set to work in earnest upon the hull of the Surprise, 
with the tools that had been left for them. 

It was hard work, for the barnacles and sea-grasses 
had covered the yacht everywhere, not only below, 
but on deck and even in the cabin. They got some 
pieces of joist that had been cast up ashore with a lot 
of other riffraff and shored the yacht up on an even 
keel, so they could work to better advantage, without 
getting in one another’s way. 

They worked industriously to the noon hour, only 
Little Tim knocking off work an hour before the others, 
io8 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 109 


in order to go down on the rocks and catch a mess 
of cunners for their dinner. He had these cleaned 
and cooking by the time the other three were ready, 
and they ate the meal heartily, in sight of their labours. 
Then they were at it again shortly, and worked hard 
till sundown. The yacht had begun to have a different 
appearance. 

The next three days they made even better progress, 
and had the most of the deck scraped down, so that it 
began to look bright again, as Harvey and his crew 
had always kept it. 

“ She’ll be the fine old boat she was before,” ex- 
claimed Joe Hinman, joyfully, as they stood that next 
evening eying their work approvingly. “ Jack won’t 
know her when he gets back.” 

But the following morning, when Joe had arisen 
and dressed and taken a peep out of the old shed in 
which they had found shelter, he could scarce believe 
his eyes. His first thought was, however, when he 
had begun to think at all, that the yacht Spray had 
returned, and that the Warren boys had surprised them 
by coming to lend a hand, and that they had begun 
work early. 

Then he saw that the yacht that lay anchored close 
in shore was not the Spray, but a strange boat; and 
furthermore that the four persons who were busily 
engaged at work upon the hull of the Surprise were 
not the Warren boys, but larger youths, and stran- 
gers. 

No, they were not all strangers, either. For there 
was one with whom they had a slight and brief ac- 


no RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


quaintance. It was Harry Brackett. What had hap- 
pened was this : 

When Harry Brackett had ventured finally to return 
to his father’s home, he had not received that fond 
welcome that one might expect from an indulgent 
parent. In fact, Squire Brackett was so incensed at 
having been led to make the exhibition of himself 
in the store before his fellow townsmen that he 
stormed roundly at his son; and he made some re- 
marks about having wasted his money for the last 
few years in sending young Brackett to the city to 
school, an assertion which perhaps Harry Brackett 
knew the full truth of even better than the squire. 

Now,” said the squire at length, “ let’s see if you 
can’t make yourself of some use, instead of just spend- 
ing my money. You get Tom Dakin and Ed Sanders 
and John Hart, and take the Seagull and get down 
there in the Thoroughfare and see if you can’t raise 
up that yacht that those young scamps wrecked there 
last fall. She’s abandoned, and she belongs to any- 
body that can get her. I’d just like to fetch her back 
here and rig her up handsome, and let them see what 
they might have done. I’ll show them a thing or two. 

“ Now you work smart,” continued the squire, and 
get that boat, and I’ll give her to you to use while 
you are at home; and I’ll get John Hart to teach you 
how to sail her. And see here, don’t you go fooling 
around with the Seagull any. You let John Hart sail 
her. That was a pretty story you told me about win- 
ning races around Marblehead! Now clear out and 
see what you can do.” 

It might be said that if young Harry Brackett had 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 111 


had any knowledge of boat-sailing he could not have 
gained it from the squire, for, whereas that gentle- 
man had property interests in several sailing-craft, by 
way of business, he knew nothing of seamanship 
himself, and was invariably seasick when he went out 
in rough water. 

Harry Brackett was not wholly disinclined to the 
task imposed upon him, although he had certain mis- 
givings as to how it would coincide with the commis- 
sion imparted to him by the man, Carleton, whom 
he had met at Bellport. He figured, however, that the 
Surprise, if she could be floated, would be worth 
vastly more than the promised two hundred dollars. 
So he went about the village hunting up the youths his 
father had named. These three were rough fellows, 
whose worth the squire had well in mind in selecting 
them. They were strong and able-bodied, older by 
some years than Harvey and his companions ; youths 
who went alternately on short fishing-voyages and 
hung about the village at other times, ready equally 
for work or mischief. 

The four accordingly embarked at evening and 
sailed down to the Thoroughfare that night. Great 
was their surprise to find, on coming to anchor, that 
the yacht they had expected to see deep under water 
lay out on shore, with evidences of having been 
worked upon. 

Not to be defeated so easily, however, they resolved, 
on the spur of the moment, to lay claim to the yacht, 
especially as they saw no boat of any description an- 
chored anywhere in the Thoroughfare. They would 
take possession of the Surprise and, if it should prov^ 


112 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


that a party of the campers had raised her, — and not 
any of the villagers, — they would swear that they 
themselves had found her in shoal water and had 
dragged her out. 

As to the future possession of her, they would trust 
to the squire to fight a lawsuit, if necessary, to retain 
her. It was a lonely place, down there in the 
Thoroughfare, and there could be no outside witnesses. 

Therefore, before the sun was up, they had rowed 
ashore and begun work upon the yacht. They began 
differently, however, than the boys had done. They 
realized that the first thing for their purpose was to 
get the Surprise afloat. Once in possession of the 
yacht, afloat and towed back to harbour, whoever 
should claim it then might have trouble in making 
their claim good. 

John Hart was something of a shipwright in a 
small way, and they had brought carpenter’s and 
calking tools along. 

They, in turn, busily engaged at their work, were 
taken by surprise all of a sudden at the appearance 
of Joe Hinman and his crew, tearing down upon them, 
half-dressed, and their eyes wide with amazement and 
indignation. 

“ Here, that’s our boat,” cried Joe, rushing up to 
them, panting for breath. ‘‘ You’ve got no right to 
touch it. We raised it.” 

John Hart, with sleeves rolled up, displaying a pair 
of brawny arms, looked at the crew sneeringly. They 
were certainly not formidable as against himself and 
his two comrades, to say nothing of young Harry 
Brackett. 



“ ‘ HERE, that’s 


OUR BOAT,’ 
RIGHT TO 


CRIED JOE, 
TOUCH IT.’” 


‘ you’ve 


GOT 


NO 






LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 113 


“ You raised it ! ” he exclaimed, roughly. “ That’s 
a likely story. What did you raise her with — your 
hands? You’re a fine wrecking-crew. Why, we had 
this boat out on shore two days ago. What are you 
interfering with us for?” 

“ Now, see here,” said Joe Hinman, “ that won’t 
work, so you better not try it. There are too many 
on our side.” And he narrated, rapidly, the history 
of the raising of the Surprise by the Warrens and 
Henry Burns and Harvey and himself and crew. 

John Hart and his comrades seemed a bit non- 
plussed at this. It did put a different phase upon the 
matter. They looked at one another inquiringly for 
a moment. But they were rough fellows, not given 
to weighing evidence critically. Might was right 
with them if it could be carried through. 

“That’s a lie!” exclaimed John Hart, suddenly, 
advancing toward Joe Hinman. “ You think you can 
fool us with your city ways, but you’d better look out. 
Where are all these fine youngsters that you say raised 
the boat? This boat is ours, because we saved her. 
You get out and don’t come around bothering, be- 
cause we won’t stand any nonsense.” 

There was no present hope for Joe and his crew. 
They were clearly outmatched. They withdrew, 
therefore, to the shed, cooked their breakfast and ate 
it with diminished appetites. 

“ What will Jack say,” remarked Little Tim, rue- 
fully, “ if he gets here and finds the boat gone? We 
can’t get away to give the alarm, either. We’ve got 
to stay here till he comes back.” 

“ Never mind,” exclaimed Joe, bitterly. “ They 


114 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


can’t keep it long. We’ll prove in the end that we 
saved her.” 

Yes, but that means half the summer wasted in 
fighting over it,” said George Baker, despondently. 
“ You see, when one person gets hold of a thing, that 
gives him some advantage. They will have that boat 
afloat, and rigged, before they can be sued.” 

The task of making the Surprise tight enough to 
float was, however, not to be so easy as it might ap- 
pear at first glance. It was a nice and particular job 
fitting in new planking where the hole had been stove. 
It took a good part of the day, though John Hart 
and his comrades worked industriously. 

Then it was apparent that the yacht had strained 
all along her bilge badly and about the centreboard, 
so that it would require all of another day to calk 
her and set the nails that had been wrenched loose. 
By evening of the next day, however, she was ready 
for hauling off, in the opinion of John Hart; and 
they would do that in the morning and tow her back 
to Southport. 

But they had not reckoned wholly with Joe and his 
crew. Finding themselves outmatched in strength, 
these youngsters had wandered disconsolately about 
the little island for the last two days, fishing and 
swimming and passing the time as best they could; 
watching eagerly out through the Thoroughfare, in 
hopes that Harvey and Henry Burns and the others 
might put in an appearance; and all the while keep- 
ing sharp watch of the progress of work upon the 
Surprise. 

Hart and the other three, fearing no interruption 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 115 


from the boys, had ignored them. At night they went 
out aboard the Seagull, where they had provided tem- 
porary quarters for all four of them by stretching the 
mainsail over the boom for a shelter, and tying it to 
the rail at the edges. 

“ They’re all ready to haul her off in the morn- 
ing, I think,” said Joe Hinman, as the boys sat 
gloomily by the door of the shed on the evening 
of the second day after the arrival of the men. I 
heard them singing and laughing out aboard, and 
saying something about ‘ to-morrow ’ and * South- 
port.’ Oh, if there was only another day’s work on 
her, the boys might get here in time yet.” 

Then I’ll keep her here another day,” exclaimed 
Little Tim, “ if they beat me black and blue for it.” 

You can’t do it,” said Joe. 

“ Can’t I, though? ” responded Tim. ‘‘ Well, watch 
me and see. Will you fellows help? ” 

The boys assented, not to be outdone in courage 
by the smallest one of them. 

“ We can do it,” said Little Tim. “ They leave their 
tools aboard the cabin of the Surprise at night. I 
saw John Hart put the box in there before he went 
out aboard. He said another hour’s work would fix 
something or other. I couldn’t hear what. But we’ll 
fix her so it will take longer than that, I reckon.” 

“ O-o-oh ! ” exclaimed George Baker. “ But we’ll 
catch it, though, when they find it out.” 

‘‘ All right,” said Tim. ‘‘ I’ll take my share if the 
rest will.” 

Again the others assented somewhat dubiously. 

Toward midnight, the four lads stole cautiously 


116 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


down to the shore, and climbed noiselessly aboard 
the Surprise. As Little Tim had described it, there, 
tucked away in the cabin, was a box of carpenter’s 
tools. 

“ Here’s what we want first,” said Little Tim, 
softly, producing a big auger from the box. “ We’ll 
use this for awhile, because it doesn’t make any 
noise.” 

“ Great ! ” exclaimed Joe Hinman, whose imagina- 
tion was now fired with the idea of mischief. “ Let 
me have the first turn at it.” 

Little Tim yielded him the precedence. 

Climbing out of the yacht again, Joe Hinman pro- 
ceeded to bore into the planking of the Surprise, on the 
opposite side from the shore. This served to hide 
their operations and also to deaden what little sound it 
made. He went laboriously along the length of one 
plank, and then turned the auger over to Little Tim, 
who went to work with a subdued squeal of delight. 

Keep to the same plank,” said Joe. ‘‘ We don’t 
want to ruin the whole bottom of the boat.” 

They bored the holes in turn, close together, all 
around one plank, and then began on another. It was 
tiresome work, but they served three long pieces of 
planking the same way. 

Then they brought out a great chisel and pried off 
the planking, fearful of the noise it made. But they 
had done their work well, and the sound of the tear- 
ing wood was not sharp. No one stirred out aboard 
the yacht. 

“ That’s enough,” said Joe, as the third plank came 
away. ‘‘ They’ll have hard work to match that up 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 117 


in two days. They’re short of wood now, by the way 
they patched the other place.” 

“ We’ll take away the pieces of planking we’ve cut 
out, to make sure, and bury them in the sand up along- 
shore,” suggested George Baker. 

‘‘ Why not take the box of tools, too? ” said Little 
Tim, whose blood was fired, and who would have 
stopped at nothing. 

Not much ! ” exclaimed Joe. “ We’re in for it 
enough as it is. Tim, I didn’t know you had so much 
pluck.” 

‘‘ I wish it was over with,” said Tim, looking ap- 
prehensively toward the Seagull. 

They stole softly away again, back to the shanty. 
But it was long before they dropped off to sleep. 

When Tim Reardon awoke, the next morning, he 
was dreaming that he had jumped up suddenly in the 
cabin of the Surprise and had bumped his head against 
the roof of the cabin. It was a hard bump, too. Then 
it seemed as if the boat was turning upside down, and 
jumping out of water, and the floor rising up and 
hitting him. The next moment, however, he realized 
that he was in the shanty, where he had gone to sleep, 
but that a strong hand held him fast, and was shak- 
ing him roughly, while another hand was cuffing him 
over the head and ears. 

He let out a lusty yell for mercy, and the others 
jumped up, fearful of what was coming. 

Little Tim, in the grasp of John Hart, was receiv- 
ing the soundest cuffing and mauling that had ever 
fallen to his lot in a somewhat varied experience with 
the world. It had been his misfortune, lying nearest 


118 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the entrance, to be the one on whom John Harfs 
heavy hand had fallen, as he entered, followed by the 
other three, Harry Brackett bringing up the rear. 

“ Oh, ril larn ye to scuttle other people's boats ! ” 
cried John Hart, wrathfully. And he cuffed young 
Tim again, whereat that youngster howled for mercy. 

‘‘You’re a coward!” cried Joe Hinman, hotly. 
“ Licking a boy half your size.” 

“ Well, you’re nearer my size,” exclaimed John 
Hart, dropping Little Tim and making a rush for Joe. 
They clinched, but the younger boy was no match for 
Hart, who was, too, reinforced by his three compan- 
ions. Though it was noticeable that Harry Brackett 
discreetly held aloof until one of his companions had 
overpowered an adversary, when he essayed to put 
in a blow or two. 

There was no help for them. The boys got what 
they had expected — and worse. They were soundly 
thrashed when John Hart and his companions had 
satisfied their vengeance. 

“ Now, see here,” said John Hart, wrathfully, shak- 
ing a rough fist at the boys. “ What you have just 
got is like a fly lighting on you compared to what 
you’ll get the next time, if you lay another hand on 
that boat.” 

“We won’t,” blubbered Little Tim. 

And he meant it. 

“ Ouch ! ” groaned Allan Harding, as he tried to 
rub a dozen places at once with only one pair of 
hands. “You got us into a nice mess; that’s what 
you did, Tim.” 

“ Yes,” wailed Little Tim. “ But, o-o-h, it’s over 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 119 


now. And,” he added, sniffling and chuckling at the 
same time, “the boat stays, doesn’t it? You knew 
we’d catch it, so what’s the use blaming me? ” 

“ I didn’t think it would be such a dose,” said Joe 
Hinman. “ But I’ll stand it all right, if Jack only 
gets here in time. Let’s have something to eat. We’ll 
feel better.” 

The yacht Surprise did, sure enough, stay. They 
had done their part well. Try as best they could, 
the workers could not fasten her up again before 
sundown. They finished the job, however, by the 
aid of a lantern-light, and, taking no more chances, 
got some pieces of old spars for rollers and dragged 
the yacht down into the water, where they moored 
her close to land, a few rods away from the Seagull. 

There was no sleep for the boys that night. They 
were stiff and sore, for one thing. But it was the 
last chance for rescue. It was the seventh day since 
the Viking had sailed away. They took turns watch- 
ing, away down on the point of the little island, an 
eighth of a mile below where the Seagull and the Sur- 
prise lay. Nor did they watch in vain. Along about 
eleven o’clock. Little Tim saw the moonlight shining 
on a familiar sail away down the Thoroughfare. 

With the return of daylight, following their narrow 
escape, Henry Burns and his friends, wide awake, had 
begun fishing early. It proved a record morning for 
them. They filled their baskets with cod, and piled 
the cockpit deep with them, and only hauled in their 
lines finally, about the middle of the forenoon, when 
they had exhausted the supply of herring which they 
had purchased for bait of the trader. They had about 


120 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


six dollars’ worth of fish when they weighed in their 
catch at the trader’s dock. 

It had been a satisfactory trip, on the whole, and 
had showed them what they could do. Deducting the 
money they had paid out for bait and for some pro- 
visions, they had netted nearly eighteen dollars, hav- 
ing fished a part of five days. The division of this 
gave six dollars to Tom and Bob and left twelve dol- 
lars to the two owners of the Viking. True, they 
would have a new anchor and some new line to buy 
out of this; but that was, in a way, an incidental of 
yachting, and might have happened in some other 
manner. 

There was a southwesterly blowing, with some 
prospect of its holding on late. So, after clearing 
up accounts with Mr. Hollis, the trader, and having 
an early supper in the harbour, where they were free 
from the pitching of the sea outside, they got under 
way and stood up once more for Grand Island, run- 
ning free before a good breeze. It was about five 
o’clock in the afternoon, and, if the wind held, they 
would make the foot of Grand Island by nine o’clock. 
They were impatient to be back at Southport, and 
were willing to sail at night if need be. 

And yet it was a mere chance that should bring 
them in to the Thoroughfare on time; for, just north 
of North Haven, and before they had come to the 
group of islands beyond, some one suggested that 
they stand on for Southport and go down to the 
Thoroughfare the next morning. Harvey half- 
assented, and then, with a fondness that still lingered 
for his old boat, was doubtful. 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 121 


“What do you say, Henry?’' he had asked of 
Henry Bums. “ I’ll do as you think about it” 

“ Oh, better go down to-night and relieve the crew,” 
said Henry Burns. “ They’re probably sick of stay- 
ing there by this time, all alone. At any rate, we’ll 
leave them a new supply of food.” 

But Henry Burns himself would rather have gone 
to Southport. 

The wind held on for all of the eighteen miles they 
had to run; but it dropped away to a very light 
breeze just at sundown, then freshened a little soon 
after. It was not until near eleven o’clock, however, 
instead of nine, as they had expected, that they en- 
tered and sailed up the Thoroughfare. 

Tom Harris, as lookout forward to watch the 
shoaling of the channel, saw, all at once, something 
that made his flesh creep. A stout, wholesome lad 
was Tom Harris, too, with no superstition about 
him. Yet he had heard sailors’ yarns of ghostly 
things in the sea — and he might almost have been 
warranted in thinking he now beheld something of that 
sort. 

There, off the port bow, about an eighth of a mile 
from shore, was something that did look strangely 
like a human head bobbing along; and if there wasn’t 
an arm lifted again and again from the water, as of 
some one swimming a side-stroke, why, then Tom 
Harris was dreaming, or seeing some seaman’s phan- 
tom. He had to believe his own eyes, though; and 
yet how could it be, away down at this end of the 
island, where there were no cabins of any sort — and 
the crew up beyond? 


122 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Jack, Henry, Bob,” he whispered, excitedly, 

there’s a queer thing swimming just ahead there. It 
may be a big fish or a seal, but it looks different to 
me.” 

‘‘ That’s no fish,” cried Harvey, springing to his 
feet. “ It’s some one swimming. I’ll bet it’s one of 
the crew. Little Tim Reardon, most likely. Just like 
the little chap to try to surprise us. He’s the best 
swimmer I ever saw. Learned it around the docks 
up the river before he was seven years old.” 

If there was any doubt in their minds it was dis- 
pelled by a faint halloo from the swimmer, accom- 
panied by a warning cry for them to make no noise. 

“ That’s queer,” said Harvey. “ Something’s up 
when Tim doesn’t want a noise. I wonder if any- 
thing has gone wrong.” 

Little Tim, climbing aboard a few moments later, 
and telling his story in excited tones, quickly apprised 
them that things were decidedly wrong up the 
Thoroughfare. Wrong indeed ! The yachtsmen were 
thunderstruck. 

Jack Harvey brought the Viking into the wind as 
near shore as he dared. 

“ Bully for you, Tim ! ” he exclaimed. “ Now take 
the dory and get ashore quick, and bring the rest of 
the crew down here.” 

Tim was away for shore in a twinkling. A few 
minutes later the four could be seen coming down 
on the run. They piled aboard the Viking in a heap, 
and the yacht stood along up the Thoroughfare once 
more. 

“ Well, what are we going to do. Jack? ” inquired 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 123 

Henry Burns, as they turned a bend of the shore and 
came in sight of the mast of the Seagull. 

‘‘ Fm going to fight for that boat! ” cried Harvey, 
angrily. Fll die for it, but they sha’n't get it away 
from me.’' 

“ Of. course we’ll fight for it if we need to,” said 
Henry Burns, calmly. “ We will all stand by you, eh, 
fellows ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir,” exclaimed Tom and Bob together, feel- 
ing of their muscles, developed by canoeing and gym- 
nastics. 

The crew also assented, less warmly. They had 
had their taste of it already. 

“ All the same,” said Henry Burns, “ it would be 
a huge joke on them, after they have gone to work 
and patched her up and floated her for us, to sail in 
and tow her out without their knowing it. Just imag- 
ine them waking up in the morning and finding the 
boat and the crew both gone.” 

Yes, and we’ll catch it for that, too, I suppose,” 
groaned George Baker. 

‘‘ No, we’ll stand by you,” said Henry Burns. And 
he added, Let’s try the easiest way first. Jack. We’ll 
run in as q-uietly as we can, come up alongside the 
Surprise and take her in tow. If they wake, we’ll 
stand by you and fight for the boat. But I think we 
may get away with her. They’re bound to be sound 
sleepers.” 

Carefully stowing away every pail or oar or stick 
that could be in the way at the wrong time and make 
a noise, the yachtsmen brought the Viking close in 
upon the dismasted Surprise. Then, as Harvey made 


124 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


a wide sweep to bring the Viking about into the wind, 
Henry Burns and Tom Harris dropped astern in the 
dory and picked up the line with which the Surprise 
had been moored. They were ready for Harvey when 
he had come about. Throwing the line aboard as 
the Viking rounded to, close in, they rowed quickly 
alongside and sprang over the rail. The line had been 
caught by Bob, who made it fast astern. 

The Viking had not even lost headway, so skilfully 
had the manoeuvre been carried out. Standing away 
on the starboard tack, the Viking's sails filled and the 
line brought up. The wind was fairly fresh and the 
weight of the unballasted Surprise did not stop the 
Viking. The Surprise, its long, lonely stay down in 
the Thoroughfare ended, had at last begun its home- 
ward journey toward Southport. 

“ I don’t see but what your friends on the Seagull 
did us a good turn in trying to rob you of the Sur- 
prise” said Henry Burns, smiling. They seem to 
have made the old boat pretty fairly tight. They’ve 
saved us time.” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, we owe ’em something for that,” ex- 
claimed Little Tim, feeling around for a sore spot, 
but I hope they don’t try to collect any more of the 
debt from me.” 

“Tim, you were a brick to do what you did!” 
cried Harvey. “ And the rest of you, too. You had 
the real pluck. But Tim suggested it, and he’s first 
mate of the Surprise after this, and next to Skipper 
Joe. That’s fair, isn’t it? ” 

George Baker and Allan Harding agreed. 

“ What do you think,” asked Harvey, as they sailed 


LITTLE TIM A STRATEGIST 125 


on up the bay, will they keep up the fight for the 
boat? Will the squire take it to court, or will they 
quit, now they find themselves outwitted?” 

“ They’ll give it up,” said Henry Burns. “ They 
would have tried to lie it through if they could have 
got the boat away from here. But now that we have 
it, they will look at it differently. They’ll find, when 
they get back to the village, too, that the Warren 
boys were down here, and that will settle it.” 

Henry Bums was right. 

John Hart and his comrades, astounded, on awaken- 
ing, to find the Surprise nowhere to be seen, had 
jumped to the conclusion that the crew had stolen 
down and cut her loose. 

‘‘ We’ll take it out of them! ” he had cried, fiercely; 
and, followed by his no less irate comrades, had dashed 
up to the old cabin. Another disappointment. And 
still another, when they had searched all the shores 
of the Thoroughfare and examined its waters, and 
realized that the boat was gone. 

“ Well, we’ll get it yet, if they have carried it off,” 
young Brackett ventured to suggest. 

“ We’ll do nothing of the kind,” cried John Hart, 
angrily. ‘‘You idiot! Can’t you see we’re beaten? 
Some one has been down in the night and helped them. 
That must have been true, what they said about the 
other chaps. The best thing we can do is to keep 
quiet about what we have done, or we’ll have the 
whole town laughing at us for working on their boat.” 

Young Harry Brackett looked pained. 


CHAPTER IX. 


HARRY BRACKETT PLAYS A JOKE 

S OUTHPORT, albeit not a place of great hilarity, 
took a night off once a fortnight or so, and en- 
joyed itself in rollicking fashion. Up the island, 
about a mile and a half from the harbour, there was 
a small settlement, consisting of a half-dozen houses 
clustered together, overlooking a pretty cove that made 
in from the western shore. They were a part of the 
town of Southport, though separated from the rest. 
It had been, in fact, the original place of settlement, 
and there was a church and town hall there. 

This town hall, bare and uninviting in appearance 
for the most of its existence, brightened up smartly on 
these fortnightly occasions, putting on usually some 
vestments of running pine and other festoons of trail- 
ing vines, and adorned with wild flowers in their 
season. 

A glittering array of lamps, some loaned for the 
occasion, made the hall brilliant ; while a smooth birch 
floor, polished and waxed as shining as any man-o’- 
warsman’s deck, reflected the illumination and offered 
an inviting surface for dancing. 

Overhead, on the floor above, it was often custom- 
ary to serve a baked bean supper before the dancing, 
126 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 127 


with its inevitable accompaniment of pie of many 
varieties. 

Everybody took part in the dances, from Benny 
Jones, who had one wooden leg, but who could hop 
through the Boston Fancy with amazing nimbleness, 
to old Billy Cook, who arrayed his feet, usually bare, 
in a pair of heavy boots that reached to his knees, and 
in which he clattered about the hall with a noise like 
a flock of sheep. Even the squire consented to unbend 
from his dignity on some of these occasions, stalking 
through a few dances stiffly, as a man carved out of 
wood. 

As for young Harry Brackett, he would have been 
welcomed, also, and indeed had formerly taken part 
in the festivities. But, since his return from Boston 
and from some of the livelier summer resorts, he had 
referred to the island dances contemptuously as 
“ slow.” 

The campers usually went up to see the fun; and 
Henry Burns, who was a favourite about the island, 
and George Warren were usually to be seen among the 
dancers. 

By far the most important functionary of all, how- 
ever, was a quaint, little, grizzled old man, who was 
not a resident of the island, but lived six miles away, 
over across on the cape. Uncle Bill ” Peters, with 
his squeaking fiddle and well-resined bow, was, in fact, 
the whole orchestra. He was the one indispensable 
man of all. He had a tireless arm that had been 
known to scrape the wailing fiddle-strings from twi- 
light to early morning on more than one occasion, 
inspiring the muse now and then with a little tobacco, 


128 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


which did not hinder him from calling off the numbers 
in a singsong, penetrating voice. 

Early in the day, when a dance was arranged, it 
was the duty of some one to sail across to the cape 
and fetch ‘‘ Uncle Billy ” over, his arrival being the 
occasion for an ovation on the part of a selected com- 
mittee. 

You’re goin’ up to the dance, I see,” remarked 
Rob Dakin to Billy Cook, one evening shortly follow- 
ing the adventures down in the Thoroughfare, just 
narrated. 

“ Well, I reckon,” answered Billy, reaching into a 
cracker-barrel and abstracting some odds and ends 
of hardtack. 

It was easy enough for anybody to see, for Billy’s 
boots occupied a large part of the store doorway, as 
he seated himself in a chair, and crossed one leg over 
the other. 

“ I just saw Uncle Bill Peters go by,” continued 
Billy Cook. ‘‘ I should think he’d be scared to fetch 
that ’ere fiddle clear across the bay here. Jeff Hackett 
says it’s one of the best fiddles this side er Portland. 
Cost seven dollars, I hear.” 

Just then a crowd of boys, including Henry Burns 
and Harvey, Tom and Bob and the Warrens, went 
by the door, coming up from shore, where they had 
been at work on the hull of the yacht Surprise. 

“ Hello, Billy ! ” cried young Joe, spying the big- 
gest pair of boots of which the island boasted, filling 
up the doorway. ‘‘ Are you going up to the dance, 
Billy?” 

Yes, I be,” responded Billy, rather abruptly. 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 129 


‘‘Hooray! ’’ cried young Joe. “ So am 1.” 

“ Well, I don’t know as I’m so overpowering anx- 
ious to have yer go,” asserted Billy; “ at least, unless 
you mend your ways. You boys have got ter quit 
your cutting up dance nights, or there’ll be trouble.” 

Young Joe grinned. 

“ I didn’t fill up your boots, Billy,” he said. 
“ Honour bright, I didn’t.” 

He might have added that the reason why was 
because somebody else thought of it first. 

Billy Cook’s memory of the preceding dance was 
clouded by one sad incident. It seems that, by reason 
of his habit of going barefoot at other times except 
funerals and dances, and of dispensing with the con- 
ventionality of socks when he did wear boots, it was 
a relief to Billy to step out-of-doors, once or twice dur- 
ing the evening, remove the cumbersome boots, and 
walk about for a few moments barefoot. 

It fell out that, at the previous dance, after one of 
these moments of respite, Billy had returned to find 
his boots filled with water, and that young Joe’s deep 
sympathy had directed suspicion against him. 

“ No, sirree,” said young Joe now, in response to 
Billy’s rejoinder. “ We didn’t have anything to do 
with that. And we didn’t put the lobster in the squire’s 
tall hat, either. ’Twas some chaps from down the 
island that did that. You know how they like the 
squire dovm there, Billy.” 

“ Guess I know how some folks up here like him, 
too,” muttered Billy. 

Early that evening, the lights glimmering from the 
well-cleaned windows of the town hall shone out as 


130 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


so many beacons to guide the islanders from far and 
near. They came from up and down the island, rat- 
tling along the stony road in wagons that must have 
been built at some time or other — though nobody 
could remember when they were new. Moreover, 
whereas a boat must be painted often to keep it sound 
and at its best, the same does not apply to farm 
wagons. Hence, the conveyances that came bumping 
along up to the town hall shed were certainly not 
things of beauty. 

But each carried, nevertheless, its load of human 
happiness and merriment. There sprang out rosy- 
cheeked, buxom island girls and sturdy young fisher- 
men, healthy, hearty, and full of life, eager for the 
first weird strains of Uncle Billy’s seven-dollar fiddle. 

He was soon in action, too. Seated on a high plat- 
form at the end of the hall, resining his bow, was 
Uncle Billy, smiling like a new moon upon the com- 
pany. For the hall was used, likewise, by troupes of 
wandering theatrical companies; and, on this very 
stage where Uncle Billy was now seated, the villagers 
had gazed upon the woes of Little Eva and Uncle 
Tom, and had beheld Eliza Harris flee in terror, with 
a lumbering mastiff (supposed to be a bloodhound) 
tagging after her, crossing the little stage at two 
heavy bounds, and yelping behind the scenes, either 
from innate ferocity or at the sight of a long-withheld 
bone. 

Uncle Billy was off now in earnest, with a squeak- 
ing and a shrieking of the catgut. Captain Sam 
Curtis, his hair nicely “ slicked,” and wearing a gor- 
geous new blue and red necktie, led the grand march 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 131 


as master of ceremonies, with Rob Dakin’s wife on his 
arm. Rob Dakin, escorting Mrs. Curtis, followed 
next. The squire was somewhere in line, leading a 
stately maiden sister of his wife. Billy Cook clattered 
along, with a laughing damsel from down the island. 
Henry Burns and George Warren, with comely part- 
ners, were also to be seen, entering heartily ia the 
fun. 

At the end of the hall nearest the doorway stood 
a group of islanders who didn’t dance, or hadn’t part- 
ners at present. Included in these were the other two 
Warren boys and the most of the campers. Included, 
also, was young Harry Brackett, scowling enviously 
at a youth from the foot of the island, who led to the 
dance a certain black-haired, bright-eyed, trim little 
miss, who smiled at her escort sweetly as they prom- 
enaded past the entrance where Harry Brackett stood. 

It had happened that this same young lady had been 
invited by Harry Brackett to accompany him to the 
dance as his partner; but that she had coolly snubbed 
him, with the remark that he was “ stuck-up,” — an 
unpardonable offence in the eyes of a resident of South- 
port, as elsewhere. 

So it came about that Harry Brackett, after glaring 
malevolently upon the general merriment for a few 
minutes, took his departure. 

If any one had followed this young man, they would 
have observed him footing it up the main road of the 
island for about half a mile, at a surprising pace for 
one no more energetically inclined than he. Then, at 
a certain point, Harry Brackett left the road, crawled 
through some bars that led into a pasture, and made 


132 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


his way by a winding cow-path into a clump of bushes 
and small trees, some distance farther. 

Harry Brackett evidently was not travelling at ran- 
dom, but had some fixed destination. This destina- 
tion, shortly arrived at, proved to be a large, cone- 
shaped, grayish object, hanging from the branch of 
a tree, near to the ground. The boy approached 
it cautiously, pulled a cap that he wore down about 
his ears, tied a handkerchief about his neck, turned 
up his coat-collar, and put on a pair of thick gloves. 

If any one had been near, they might have heard 
a subdued humming, or droning sound coming from 
the object on the branch. It was a wasp’s nest of 
enormous size. 

Harry Brackett next proceeded to take from his 
pocket a small scrap of cotton cloth and a bottle, from 
which, as he uncorked and inverted it, there issued 
a thick stream of tar and pitch, used for boat calking. 
Having smeared the cloth with this, he was ready 
for business. 

He stole quietly up to the nest, clapped the sticky 
cloth over the orifice at the base of it, dodged back, 
and awaited results. 

A sound as of a tiny windmill arose within the 
nest — an angry sound, which indicated that the fiery- 
tempered inmates were aware of their imprisonment 
and were prepared for warfare. But Harry Brackett 
had accomplished his design, unscathed. A few tiny 
objects, darting angrily about in the vicinity, showed 
that some of the insects still remained without the 
nest, and were surprised and indignant at finding their 
doorway thus unexpectedly barred. 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 133 


Somewhat uncertain as to how these might receive 
him, Harry Brackett screwed up his courage and 
dashed up to the nest, which he severed from the tree 
by cutting off the branch with his clasp-knife. His 
venture proved successful, and, swinging his hat about 
his head to ward off any chance wasp that might come 
to close quarters with him, he emerged triumphantly 
from the thicket, bearing his prize, and without pay- 
ing the penalty of a single sting. 

“ My ! but that’s a mad crowd inside there,” he 
exclaimed. ‘‘ Sounds like the buzz-saw over at Lem 
Barton’s tide-mill. Guess they’ll liven things up a bit 
at the dance. Perhaps some other folks will be 
stuck-up to-morrow.” 

The furious buzzing quieted, however, after he 
had gone about a quarter of a mile, and he reflected 
that perhaps the wasps, cut off from a fresh supply of 
air, might die on the way. So he took out his knife 
again and stabbed several holes in the nest, with the 
thick blade; whereupon the angry remonstrances of 
the prisoners was resumed, to his satisfaction. 

This time, however, he did not venture along the 
highway, but made his way slowly back to the town 
hall through the woods and pastures. After a time 
he came to where the lights of the hall gleamed through 
the bushes, and the thin but vigorous scraping of 
Uncle Billy’s fiddle sounded from the stage. He put 
down his burden and made a stealthy reconnaissance 
as far as the rear sheds of the hall. Some men were 
about there, so he waited for a favourable opportunity. 

This opportunity did not present itself for some 
time, as now and again some one would come out to 


134 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


see if his horse was standing all right, and possibly 
suspicious that some prank might be played with the 
wagons; for the young fishermen of Southport were 
not above playing practical jokes of their own on these 
occasions. So it was not until Harry Brackett had 
waited fully a half-hour that he fancied the coast 
clear. 

It was then half-past nine o'clock, or when the danc- 
ing had been in progress about an hour, that Harry 
Brackett, bearing his burden of pent-up mischief, stole 
slyly up to the rear of the hall, where a window, 
opened to give a circulation of air through the place, 
afforded him an entrance back of the stage. 

It happened, not all opportunely for the young man, 
however, that some of the islanders came to these 
dances, not for the dancing itself, but because of the 
opportunity it offered to meet socially and discuss 
matters. Of this number, long Dave Benson, who 
lived on the western shore, and Eben Slade, commonly 
called Old Slade, who lived across from the harbour 
settlement on the bluff, had withdrawn from the hall 
to talk over a dicker about a boat. 

After a friendly proffer of tobacco on Dave Ben- 
son’s part, the two had adjourned to one of the sheds 
at the rear of the hall, to get away from the noise of 
the music and the dancers, and had seated themselves 
in an old covered carryall, from which the horse had 
been unharnessed. 

From this point of vantage, they presently espied 
a solitary figure emerge from the dark background 
and go cautiously on to the rear window. 

S-h-h ! ” whispered Dave Benson to his compan- 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 135 


ion, “ what’s going on there? Some more skylarking, 
I reckon. Well, there won’t be any wheels taken off 
from my wagon to-night.” 

“ Why, it looks like that ’ere young good-for-noth- 
ing of the squire’s,” said Old Slade. “ Thinks he’s 
a leetle too good for dancing, perhaps, but don’t mind 
takin’ a peek at the fun from the outside. Seems to 
be carrying something or other, though. What do 
you make that out to be ? ” 

Looks like a big bunch of paper to me,” replied 
Dave Benson. “ But I allow I can’t see in the dark 
like I used to — however, it don’t matter, I guess. 
Now as to that ’ere boat of mine, she’s a bit old. I’ll 
allow, but you can’t do better for the money.” 

Harry Brackett, all unconscious of his observers, 
vanished through the open window. When he reap- 
peared, a few moments later, he was minus the object 
he had carried. Moreover, that object no longer bore 
upon its base the piece of tarred cloth. Harry Brackett 
had snatched that away as he made his hasty depar- 
ture, after depositing the nest among the faded scen- 
ery stored behind the stage. Then, from a side win- 
dow, he watched the effect of his plan. 

The dancing was in full swing. Uncle Billy, warmed 
to his task, and keeping time with his foot, was call- 
ing off the numbers. 

“ Balance your partners ! Gentlemen swing ! All 
hands around ! ” sang out Uncle Billy. 

The dancers were in great fettle. Billy Cook, boots 
and all, was doing gallantly. Captain Sam’s laugh 
could be heard clear to the woods beyond the pasture. 
Squire Brackett was actually breaking out in a smile. 


136 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Henry Burns and his friends were gathered near the 
doorway, watching the surprising play of Billy Cook’s 
boots. 

But at this happy moment something happened to 
Uncle Billy Peters. His fiddle-bow, scraping across 
the strings in one wild, discordant shriek, dropped 
from his hand. His half-articulated call for a position 
of the dance blended into a startled yell, that brought 
the dancing to an abrupt stop; while Uncle Billy, his 
fiddle discarded, had leaped from his seat and was 
now dancing about the stage and describing the most 
extraordinary gyrations, waving his arms in the air 
and slapping at his face and the back of his neck, as 
though his own music had driven him stark, staring 
mad. 

“What on earth!” — ejaculated Billy Cook. He 
got no further. Something that felt like a fish-hook, 
half-way down his boot-leg, occupied his attention; 
and the next moment a dozen or more of the same 
animated fish-hooks were buzzing about his head. 

Billy Cook made one frantic clutch at his boot-leg; 
and, failing to find relief, yanked the boot off. Swing- 
ing this wildly about his head, one foot bared and the 
other clattering, poor Billy fled from the hall. 

The squire’s expansive smile faded away in an ex- 
pression of anguish and wrathful indignation. Slap- 
ping madly at the bald patch at the crown of his head, 
and uttering fierce denunciations upon the author of 
the mischief, he ignominiously deserted his partner 
of the dance and likewise fled precipitately. 

The campers had already scuttled before the storm, 
and in a twinkling the hall was cleared. The angry. 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 137 

buzzing swarm was in complete and undisputed pos- 
session. 

ril give five dollars to any one that will discover 
who did this outrage ! ” cried Squire Brackett, dash- 
ing across the road to where a group of dancers had 
gathered. “ Where’s that Burns boy and that Har- 
vey — and that little Warren imp? He had a hand in 
it, I’ll take my oath. Whoever they are, they’ll get 
one horsewhipping that they’ll remember for the rest 
of their lives. Get those horsewhips out of the 
wagons ! We’ll teach the young rascals a lesson.” 

The squire had not observed that still another group 
of stalwart fishermen had had a word with Dave Ben- 
son and Old Slade and had already, of their own 
accord, provided themselves with horsewhips. 

The squire only knew, at this time, that a party 
of the men were off down the road, with a hue and 
cry. He did not know that his own son was fleeing 
before them on the wings of fear, and being fast over- 
taken by his pursuers, themselves borne onward on 
the wings of pain and wrath. 

What the campers, joining in the pursuit, saw 
shortly, was the figure of young Harry Brackett, flee- 
ing down the highway toward the harbour, bawling 
loudly for mercy, as first one whip-lash and then an- 
other cut about his legs ; and receiving no mercy, but, 
instead, as sound and thorough a horsewhipping as 
the squire himself had recommended for the guilty 
wretch. 

Some time later, there limped into Southport vil- 
lage a sadder, if not wiser youth, stinging as though 


138 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the whole nest of wasps had broken loose and settled 
upon him. 

On the following morning, this same saddened 
youth, walking painfully, and somewhat dejected in 
mind, resulting from an interview with the elder 
Brackett, turned the corner where the main street was 
intersected by the road leading up to the Warrens’ cot- 
tage, and came most unexpectedly upon Jack Harvey. 
It was his first face-to-face meeting with Harvey 
since the episode out in the bay, and the subsequent 
accusation he had made against Harvey and Henry 
Burns. 

It was disconcerting, but Harry Brackett resolved 
to put on a bold face. 

“ Hello there, Harvey,” he said, eying the other 
somewhat sheepishly despite his resolution. 

“ Hello, yourself,” replied Harvey, grinning at the 
doleful appearance presented by the other. Secretly, 
Jack Harvey had promised himself that he would 
thrash him at the first opportunity; but he had seen 
that done so effectively, only the night previous, that 
he was fully satisfied. He couldn’t have done it half 
so well himself. 

“ Say, you had a lot of fun last night, didn’t you? ” 
said Harvey. “ You did that in fine style. But say, 
what did you want to keep all the fun to yourself for ? 
Why didn’t you let us in on it? ” 

Harry Brackett flushed angrily at the bantering, but, 
realizing he could not resent it, made no reply. 

“ How’d the squire like it?” continued Harvey. 

“ Look here, you wouldn’t think it any fun if you 
got what I did,” exclaimed Harry Brackett. 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 139 


‘‘ No, but I think it good fun that you got it,” said 
Harvey ; “ and Fll tell you right now that it saved 
you one from me.” 

Harry Brackett eyed Harvey maliciously; but he 
had a mission to perform, and he was bound to go 
through with it. 

“ Say, I know it wasn’t the square thing to lay that 
upset out there in the bay to you fellows,” he said, 
with an effort. “ But, you see, I knew father would 
be furious about the boat — and, well, I told him the 
first thing that came into my head about it. I didn’t 
think he would try to make trouble for you, though.”' 

‘‘No?” replied Harvey, skeptically. “Probably 
you don’t know him as well as some of the rest of us 
do.” 

“ Well, here, don’t go yet,” said Harry Brackett, 
as Harvey started to brush past him. “ I’ve got some- 
thing I want to talk to you about.” 

Harvey paused in surprise. 

“ It’s about the boat,” explained Harry Brackett. 
“You fellows don’t need two boats — and two such 
good ones as the Viking and the Surprise — ” 

Harvey’s wrath broke forth again at the mention 
of the Surprise. 

“ That was a fine trick you tried to play on us, 
stealing the Surprise after we had her up,” he said. 

“ I didn’t want to do it,” said Harry Brackett. “ I 
told John Hart you fellows, must have floated her in 
there, but he wouldn’t believe it.” 

“ Any more than I believe you,” sneered Harvey. 

Harry Brackett twisted uneasily. He was making 
poor progress. 


140 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Say, Harvey,” he said, abruptly, I want to buy 
that new yacht of yours, the Viking/^ 

‘‘ You mean you want to steal her if you get a 
chance, don’t you ? ” retorted Harvey. 

“ No, I don’t,” cried Harry Brackett, the perspira- 
tion standing out on his forehead. ‘‘ I mean just what 
I say. I want to buy her, in dead earnest. You’ve 
got the Surprise back, and you don’t need the other 
one. I’ll pay you fifteen hundred dollars for the Vi- 
king. Come, will you sell her ? ” 

“ Who wants to buy her? ” asked Harvey. 

‘‘ I do, myself,” replied Harry Brackett. ‘‘ I tell 
you I’ll pay you fifteen hundred dollars in cash for 
her.” 

Harvey winked an eye, incredulously. 

You must be a millionaire,” he said. 

‘‘ Well, I can afford to pay that much for a good 
boat,” said Harry Brackett, with a well-feigned air of 
indifference as to money matters. 

“ And have you talked it over with the squire since 
last night ? ” inquired Harvey, whose curiosity was 
now aroused. 

“ I haven’t talked it over with anybody,” replied 
Harry Brackett, impatiently. ‘‘ I don’t have to. It’s 
my money.” 

Harvey gave a whistle denoting surprise. “ Well,” 
he said, “ the Viking is not for sale. Besides, Henry 
Burns owns half of her. You’ll have to talk with 
him. He won’t sell, though, I know, because the boat 
was a gift to us.” 

‘‘ Perhaps he would, if you urged him to,” sug- 
gested young Brackett. 


HARRY PLAYS A JOKE 141 


“ Well, I won’t urge him,” said Harvey, abruptly. 

But I tell you what I will do,” he added, I’ll sell 
you the Surprise. She’s a grand good boat, too ; and 
she’ll be as good as ever when she is put in shape. — 
No, I won’t do that, either,” he exclaimed, after a 
moment’s thought. “ That is, not this summer. I’ve 
promised her to the crew, and I won’t go back on it. 
No, I won’t sell you the Surprise, either.” 

“ Would you let me hire either of them for the 
season ? ” ventured Harry Brackett. 

Harvey hesitated for a moment, with visions of the 
money it would bring temptingly before his mind’s 
eye. But the remembrance of the loyalty of his crew 
was still fresh in his mind. 

‘‘ No,” he said, determinedly. ‘‘ I won’t do it.” 

Which was a lucky determination, if he had but 
known it. 

‘‘ See here,” said young Harry Brackett, lowering 
his tone, and making one final desperate effort to 
shake Harvey’s resolution, I’ll make you a better 
offer than that. I’ll pay you and Henry fifteen hun- 
dred dollars for the boat between you. You can get 
him to do it if you only try. And I’ll give you sev- 
enty-five dollars for yourself, and you needn’t say 
anything about it.” 

A moment later, Harry Brackett was picking him- 
self up off the ground and rubbing one more sore 
spot. 

‘‘ Hang it all ! ” exclaimed Jack Harvey, as he 
strode away, “ I needn’t have hit him — but he made 
me mad clear through. I owed it to him, anyway.” 

And so Harry Brackett, eying the other angrily. 


142 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


swore a new resolve of revenge on Harvey and all 
the crowd of campers and cottagers. 

“ Why, Jack,” said Henry Burns later that day, 
when he and Harvey were talking it over, ‘‘ don’t 
you suppose it was some kind of a queer joke on Harry 
Brackett’s part? What does he want of the Viking? 
He couldn’t sail her if he had her, and in the second 
place, I don’t believe he ever had so much money in all 
his life.” 

“ That’s just the queerest thing about it,” replied 
Harvey. “ He wasn’t joking and he was in dead 
earnest. He either wants the boat, or knows some- 
body else who does. It is queer, but he meant it.” 

“ Well, I can’t guess it,” said Henry Burns. ‘‘ Let’s 
go and catch a mess of flounders for supper.” 


CHAPTER X. 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 

“T XOW d’ye do, squire,” bawled Captain Sam 

I I Curtis to Squire Brackett, a morning or two 
later, as the squire stopped for a moment at 
the door of the captain’s shop, where he was busily 
engaged sewing on a sail which he was refitting for 
the yacht Surprise, for the boys. 

‘‘ Good morning. Captain Sam,” replied the squire. 

You’re busy as usual, I see.” 

'' Yes,” said Captain Sam, ‘‘ just helping the boys 
out a little. Smart chaps, those youngsters. Why, 
they went to work and raised that ’ere yacht down 
there in the Thoroughfare, and they’re cleaning her 
up in great shape; and I vow, when they get her 
painted and these good sails on her, she’ll be every bit 
as good as new. And she was always a right smart 
boat.” 

The squire scowled at Captain Sam, who kept on 
with his work; but the squire made no reply. 

“ I should er thought some of you vessel-owners 
that have got the rigging handy would have dragged 
her out for yourselves,” continued Captain Sam. “ I 
had a mind to do it myself this spring, but I was too 
busy.” 


*43 


144 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The squire sniffed as though exasperated at some- 
thing. But Captain Sam, stitching away, with an 
enormous sailmaker’s needle strapped to his palm, was 
apparently unmindful. No one would have thought, 
to look at his serious face, that he had heard the whole 
history of the squire’s venture down in the Thorough- 
fare, through the expedition of Harry Brackett, and 
that he was indulging in a little quiet fun at the squire’s 
expense. 

“ Why, what on earth should I do with another 
boat?” inquired the squire. ‘‘The one I own is one 
too many for me now. I’d like to sell her if I got 
a good offer.” 

“Would yer?” queried Captain Sam. “Well, 
you’ll get a good boat in her place if you get the 
Viking. I hear you are trying to buy her.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed the squire. “ Who told 
you that ? ” 

“ Why, Jack Harvey; he was in here a little while 
ago. He said as how your son, Harry, offered him 
fifteen hundred dollars for the boat.” 

“ Fifteen hundred fiddlesticks ! ” roared the squire. 
“ If he’s got fifteen hundred cents left out of his al- 
lowance, he’s got more than I think he has. That’s 
a likely story. Well, you can just put it down in 
black and white that I don’t pay any fifteen hundred 
dollars for a boat for a lot of boys to play monkey- 
shines with. I’ll see about that.” 

“ Perhaps it’s one of Harry’s little jokes, squire,” 
suggested Captain Sam. “ Boys will have their fun, 
you know.” 

Captain Sam threw his head back and gave a loud 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 145 


haw-haw. His recollection of Harry Brackett’s most 
recent fun was of seeing that youth tearing along the 
highway at night, with a dozen fishermen after him, 
armed with horsewhips. 

The squire’s conception of it was not so pleasant, 
however, and he took his departure. 

Harry,” he said, at the dinner-table that day, 
“ what’s this I hear about your trying to buy that boat 
of Jack Harvey?” 

Harry Brackett, taken somewhat by surprise, hesi- 
tated for a moment. ‘‘ Why — why — that was a sort 
of a joke,” he answered, finally, forcing himself to 
smile, as though he thought it funny. 

‘‘ A joke, eh? ” retorted the squire, sharply. “ Well, 
don’t you think you have had joking enough to last 
you one spell ? Here it is getting so I can’t go down 
the road without folks looking at me and grinning. 
Haven’t you any respect for your father’s dignity? 
Don’t you know I’m. of some consequence in this 
town? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the son, dutifully. “ But I didn’t 
bring your name into it. I didn’t say you wanted it.” 

‘‘Well, what did you do it for?” repeated the 
squire. 

“ Just for fun,” insisted Harry Brackett. 

“ May be so,” said the squire, eying his son with 
some suspicion ; “ but I’m not so sure of that, either. 
Now don’t you go getting into any mischief. You’ve 
had just about fun enough lately.” 

“ All right, sir,” answered Harry Brackett. 

Nevertheless, it was not exactly all right, from the 
squire’s standpoint. Not altogether above taking an 


146 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


unfair advantage of others, he was naturally suspicious 
of everybody else; and this lack of faith in humanity 
extended to his son. So he said no more, but kept 
his eyes open. 

Chance favoured him the very day following, when 
young Harry Brackett, having some work to do about 
the garden, threw off his jacket and waistcoat and 
left them carelessly over the back of a chair in the 
kitchen. The squire, passing through the room, espied 
a letter exposed from an inner pocket of the waistcoat. 
With no compunctions, he took it out, opened it and 
read it. The letter was addressed to “Mr. Harry 
Brackett, Southport, Grand Island, Me.,” and read 
as follows: 

“If you have not already made the offer for the 
Viking, don’t bother about it; for I am planning a 
visit to Southport, myself. Much obliged to you for 
your trouble, in any case. Please don’t mention the 
matter, however. 

“ Hoping I may be of service to you at some time, 
“ Very truly yours, 

“ Charles Carleton.” 

“ So, ho ! ” exclaimed the squire, softly. “ Been 
lying to me again, has he? I am not so surprised at 
that. But what did he do it for ? ” 

The squire’s first impulse was to call Harry into the 
house and demand an explanation. Then his curiosity 
led him to alter that determination. Who was this 
Mr. Carleton? Why was he trying to buy a boat 
through his son ? Why didn’t he want the matter men- 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 147 


tioned? What were the relations between this Mr. 
Carleton and his son? Well, Mr. Carleton, whoever 
he was, was coming to Southport. The squire would 
wait and see him for himself. 

He did not have long to wait, either, for the very 
next day he met Mr. Carleton face to face. The squire 
was waiting in the post-office for the evening mail 
when there came in with Jeff Hackett, in whose packet 
he had sailed across from Bellport, a tall, gentlemanly 
appearing man, dressed in a natty yachting-suit of 
blue, his face chiefly characterized by a pair of cold, 
penetrating blue eyes and a heavy blond moustache. 

“ Good evening, sir,” he said, with the easy air of 
a man of the world, and, withal the least deference to 
the pompous individual whom he addressed, which was 
not lost on a man of the squire’s vanity. “ Beautiful 
place, this island. You should be proud of it, sir.” 

Good evening,” replied the squire, formally, but 
warming a little. Yes, sir, we are proud of South- 
port ‘ 

‘‘ True,” he continued, swelling out his waistband, 

it does not afford all the opportunities for a man of 
capital to exert his activities; but it has its advan- 
tages.” 

** Which I judge you have made some use of, sir,” 
remarked the stranger, in an offhand, easy way, smil- 
ing. 

The squire beamed affably. 

** Are you going over to the harbour ? ” he inquired. 
“If so, I should be pleased to take you over in my 
carriage.” 

“ Why, you are very kind ; I should like to ride,” 


148 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


responded the stranger. “ Fll just leave word to have 
my valises sent over, and I’ll go along with you.” 

He presently reappeared, sprang lightly into the 
wagon, and the squire drove down the road. 

The stranger proved most agreeable to Squire 
Brackett. He was an easy, fluent talker, though, to 
one of finer discernment than the squire, it might have 
been apparent that he was not a man of education, 
but rather of quick observation and who had seen 
something of the world. He pleased the squire by an 
apparent recognition of him as the great man of the 
place, without ever saying so bluntly. He spoke of 
business matters as of one who was possessed of some 
means, and finally, intimating that the squire should 
know the name of one to whom he was showing a 
courtesy, handed him his card. 

To say that the squire was surprised, would be put- 
ting it mildly, for he had not thought of Mr. Carleton 
arriving by other than the boat from Mayville. Yet, 
so it was engraved upon the card, Mr. Charles Carle- 
ton,” with the address below of a Boston hotel. 

The squire was, however, somewhat relieved. It 
flashed through his mind now, quickly, just what it 
all meant. Harry had met this man at Bellport and 
had been commissioned by him to purchase the boat. 
He had seen fit to pose as the real purchaser to create 
an impression on the minds of the other boys that he 
had that amount of money. As for this gentleman, 
Mr. Carleton, he evidently had the means to buy as 
good a boat as the Viking if he chose. 

“ I wish you would tell me the best boarding-house 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 149 


in the village,” said Mr. Carleton. “ I hear the hotel 
is burned down.” 

“ Indeed it is ! ” cried the squire, warmly. “ And 
a plague on the rascal that set it, and all his kind ! It^s 
a terrible loss to the place; and I say it, though I 
opposed its being built.” 

“What a shame!” responded Mr. Carleton from 
behind his heavy moustache. But his eyes were coldly 
unsympathetic. 

“ There isn’t any regular out-and-out boarding- 
place this summer,” said the squire ; “ but I guess 
Captain Sam Curtis will put you up. He takes a 
boarder occasionally, and feeds ’em right well, too. 
I’m told.” 

So, at length, arriving at the harbour and alighting 
at the house of Captain Sam, Mr. Carleton bade the 
squire good evening. He went in at once, engaged 
a room, cultivated the captain and his wife studiously 
for a time, and was soon at home, after the manner 
he had of getting on familiar terms with whomsoever 
he desired. A curious trait in Mr. Carleton, too ; for, 
at first approach to strangers, he seemed cold and 
almost reserved, whom one might set down as a man 
of nerve, that would not be likely to lose his head 
under any conditions. 

If Mr. Carleton had made up his mind to put him- 
self on friendly terms with the youngsters of South- 
port, despite his natural inclinations, he certainly knew 
how to go about it. Witness his appearance, the fol- 
lowing day, in the course of the forenoon, at the camp 
of Joe Hinman and the rest of Harvey’s crew, as they 
were making their preparations for dinner. 


150 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Well, you boys certainly have it nice and com- 
fortable down here,” he said, cheerily, advancing to 
where Joe Hinman was stirring a bed of coals, ready 
for the fry-pan, while two of the boys were finishing 
the cleaning of a mess of fish down by the water’s 
edge. I’ve done this sort of thing myself, and I 
declare I believe I’d like a week of it now better than 
living at a hotel or a boarding-house. Good camp 
you’ve got there. 

That makes me hungrier than I’ve been for a long 
time,” he added, as Joe proceeded to cut several slivers 
of fat pork and put them into the fry-pan, where they 
sizzled appetizingly. 

“ Better stop and take dinner with us,” suggested 
Joe. “ We’ve got plenty to eat, such as it is. We’ll 
give you some of the best fish you ever tasted, and 
a good cup of coffee, and a mess of fritters.” 

‘‘Fine!” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. “You’re lads 
after my own heart. I’ll watch you do the work and 
then I’ll help you eat up the food.” And Mr. Carleton, 
smiling, seated himself on the ground, with his back 
against a tree, lighted a cigar, and watched operations 
comfortably. 

He proved very good company, too, at dinner. For 
he had a fund of stories to amuse the campers; and 
he was heartily interested in their own exploits — 
and particularly in their account of recent adventures 
down in the Thoroughfare, where Harry Brackett and 
his companions had been defeated. 

“ Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he exclaimed, 
enthusiastically, as they were finishing their camp- 
fire meal, “ I’m in for some fun, just as much as you 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 151 


are. If you will go ahead and dig some clams this 
afternoon, I'll go up to the store and order a lot of 
fruit and nuts and that sort of stuff, and anything else 
that I see that looks good. 

I saw some chickens hanging up there, too, that 
will do to broil. I’ll get enough for a crowd. You 
tell the fellows up above in that camp there, — you 
know them, I suppose, — well, you get them and any- 
body else you like. And we’ll build a big fire down 
here this evening and have the time of our lives.” 

“Hooray!” cried young Tim Reardon. “Joe 
Warren and the others would like to come in on that. 
How about two more, besides — two fellows that own 
that yacht, the Viking?” 

“ Just the thing,” replied Mr. Carleton. “ As many 
as you like.” 

There was no more work on the Surprise for the 
rest of that day. A man who was willing to buy good 
things for the boys with that recklessness didn’t come 
to town every day, nor once in a summer. 

“ He says his name is Carleton,” explained young 
Tim to Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, some time 
later. “ He says he’s in for a good time, and I guess 
he is by the looks of things.” 

“ We know him,” replied Harvey. “ He’s an old 
friend of ours, eh, Henry? ” 

“ Yes,- indeed,” said Henry Burns; “he was the 
Viking's first invited — no, uninvited — guest.” 

Mr. Carleton was as good as his word, and more. 
The canoe, manned by Tom and Bob, went down 
alongshore that afternoon loaded with a conglomerate 
mixture of oranges, bananas, bottled soda, pies, other 


152 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


sweet stuff, and extra dishes from the campers’ stores. 
And Mr. Carleton, arriving on the scene in the course 
of the afternoon, brought a lot more. He paid for 
everything. 

My! ” exclaimed young Joe, eying the stuff as the 
Warren boys put in an appearance about five o’clock. 
“ I hope he stays all summer, don’t you, Arthur ? ” 
“ Hello, I’m glad to meet you once more,” cried 
Mr. Carleton, heartily, advancing to greet Henry 
Burns and Harvey as their dory landed at the shore. 
“ I thought I might get down this way. How’s that 
fine boat of yours?” 

Fine as ever,” answered Harvey. 

Good ! I’ll go out for a sail with you to-morrow,” 
cried Mr. Carleton, clapping a hand on Harvey’s 
shoulder. Say the word, and I’ll have the soda and 
ginger ale and a new pail for some lemonade. We’ve 
got to make the time pass somehow, eh ?” 

Suits me all right,” assented Harvey. “ What do 
you say, Henry? ” 

‘‘ Bully ! ” said Henry Burns. 

The fire of driftwood, which was plentiful every- 
where along the shores of Grand Island, roared up 
cheerily against the evening sky. When it had burned 
for an hour or more. Jack Harvey deftly raked an 
enormous bed of the coals out from it, on which to 
set fry-pans and broilers and coffee-pot, still keeping 
the great fire going at a little distance, for the sake of 
its cheer. 

They feasted, then, by the light of blazing timbers 
and junks of logs, borne down from the river, as only 
hungry campers can. Young Joe ceased laughing up- 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 153 


roariously at Mr. Carleton^s stories only when his 
sixth banana and fourth piece of pie precluded loud 
utterance. And when it was over, and they went their 
several ways by woods and alongshore, they voted Mr. 
Carleton a generous provider. 

He was ready again, was Mr. Carleton, the follow- 
ing afternoon, with the promised luxuries, alongside 
the Viking; and he was as much a boy as any of them 
when he and the owners of the yacht and Tom and 
Bob set out on a sail up the bay. 

The wind was fresh and fair from the southward, 
the bay furrowed everywhere with billows breaking 
white, with just enough sea running to make it good 
sport. The Viking, with sheets well off, made a fine 
run to Springton, and bowled into that harbour with 
the spray flying. 

They cast anchor and went up into the old town, 
which was quite a little settlement clustered on a steep 
bank overhanging the harbour, and which boasted of 
a fine summer hotel and several smaller ones. And 
when it got to be late afternoon, Mr. Carleton wouldn’t 
hear of their departing; but they should all stay to 
supper at the hotel. If the wind died down with the 
sun, why, they could stay all night. What did it 
matter, when they were out for a good time? 

So they ate supper in style in the big hotel dining- 
room, and came forth from there an hour later to see 
the waters calm and the wind fallen. 

‘‘ Never mind, we’ll sleep aboard the Viking/' said 
Henry Burns. “ There’s room enough, though we 
have taken out some of the mattresses so as to put in 
the fishing-truck.” 


154 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


But Mr. Carleton would not hear of this. Not for 
a moment. He liked roughing it, to be sure, as well 
as any of them. But they were his guests now for the 
night. They must remain right there at the hotel, and 
he would see about the rooms. And they should 
breakfast at the hotel and then sail back the next day 
at their ease. 

They were not unwilling. It was an unusual sort 
of a lark, but so long as Mr. Carleton was enjoying 
it and was ready to pay the bills, they were satis- 
fied. 

So they sat on the veranda for several hours, en- 
joying the music of the orchestra in the parlour and 
watching the dancing through the windows. Then, 
when Mr. Carleton had bade them good night and 
had gone up to his room, they followed shortly, Tom 
and Bob occupying one room together and Harvey 
and Henry Burns, likewise, one adjoining. 

Jack,” said Henry Burns, suddenly, pausing in 
the act of divesting himself of his blue yachting-shirt, 
“hang it! but I’ve forgotten to lock the cabin.” 

“ Oh, let it go,” said Harvey, who was already in 
bed and was drowsy with the sea air and good feed- 
ing. 

“ No, I don’t like to,” said Henry Burns. “ There’s 
a lot of boats lying close by ; and you know how easy 
it is for one of those fishermen to slip aboard, and 
sail out at four o’clock in the morning, with one of 
our new lines and that compass that cost more than 
we could afford to pay just now ; and there’s a lot of 
things that we couldn’t afford to lose just at this time. 
No, I’m going to run down and lock up.” 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 155 


‘‘ It’s a good half-mile,” muttered Harvey. “ Better 
take the chance and let it go.” 

“ Yes, but you wouldn’t say so if you had forgotten 
if,” said Henry Burns. “ I’m to blame. And if you 
don’t see me again, why, you’ll know I’ve stayed 
aboard.” 

Henry Bums said this last half in fun, as he de- 
parted. As for Harvey, it mattered naught to him 
whether Henry Burns returned or stayed away. He 
was asleep before his comrade had closed the hotel 
door behind him. 

If it had chanced that Mr. Carleton, too, being a 
man of shrewd observation, had noticed the omission 
on the part of Henry Burns, who was the last one 
overboard, to slip the padlock that made the hatch 
and doors of the companionway fast, he had not seen 
fit to mention the fact. Instead, he had been most 
talkative as they rowed away, pointing out various 
objects of interest up in the town. 

And now that the yachtsmen had retired for the 
night and Mr. Carleton had withdrawn to his room, 
it is just barely possible that he may have recalled that 
fact. At all events, he did not make ready to retire, 
but sat for a half-hour smoking. Then he arose, 
turned down the light, and went quietly down the 
stairs. 

It was about eleven o’clock, and the hotel was be- 
ginning to grow quiet. Few guests remained in the 
parlour, and most of the lights were out about the 
hotel and the grounds. Down in the town, as Mr. 
Carleton strolled leisurely along the streets, there were 
few persons stirring. Yachtsmen aboard their craft 


156 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


in the harbour had ceased bawling out across the 
water to one another, and no songs issued forth from 
any cabin. Only the harbour lights for the most part 
gleamed from the little fleet. 

The yacht Viking lay some half-mile down below 
the village, toward the entrance to the harbour, and 
was hidden now from Mr. Carleton’s view by a little 
strip of land that made out in one place, and on which 
some tumble-down sheds stood leaning toward the 
water. 

Mr. Carleton went down confidently to the shore; 
but when he had arrived at the place where they had 
drawn the dory out, he met with a surprise, for there 
was no dory there. 

He looked about him, thinking he might have hap- 
pened upon the wrong place; but there could be no 
mistaking it. There were the same sheds, with nets 
hung out, and the same boats in different stages of 
repair that he had observed with a careful eye when 
they had come ashore. 

He went along the beach for a little distance, to 
where a lamp gleamed in one of the sheds, and knocked 
at the door. 

Some one seems to have taken our tender,” he 
said to a man that opened to his knock. “ Do you 
know where I can borrow one or hire one for an hour 
so I can go out aboard? My yacht lies down there 
below that point. Anything you say for pay, you 
know.” 

“ Tve got a skiff you're welcome to use, if you only 
fetch it back before morning,” replied the man, good- 
naturedly. ‘‘ I don’t want pay for it, though. Just 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 157 

drag it up out of the reach of the tide when you come 
in” 

He pointed to the boat, and Mr. Carleton, dragging 
it-into the water, stepped in and sculled away. 

He was alert enough now, and he worked the little 
boat with a skilled stroke and a practised arm. There 
were a pair of oars aboard, but it sufficed him to use 
the scull-hole at the stern, with a single oar, which 
gave him the advantage of being able to look ahead. 
He put his strength into it, and the skiff worked its 
way rapidly through the fleet of yachts. The evening 
was warm, and Mr. Carleton threw off jacket and 
waistcoat and unbuttoned his collar. He was a strong, 
athletic figure as he stood up to his work, peering 
eagerly ahead. 

Something gave him a sudden start, however, just 
as he cleared the point that had lain between him and 
the Viking. Watching out for a glimpse of the yacht, 
there seemed to be — or was it a trick of the eyes, or 
some reflection from across the water — there seemed 
to be a momentary flash of light from the cabin win- 
dows. Just a gleam, or an apparent gleam, and then 
all was dark. 

Mr. Carleton had stopped abruptly, straining his 
eyes at the yacht ahead. 

“ Strange,” he muttered softly, resuming his scull- 
ing and watching the yacht more eagerly, I could 
have sworn that was a light in the cabin. If ’twas 
a light, though, it must have been in one of the other 
boats.” 

He proceeded vigorously on his way. 


158 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


At this very moment, however, there came another 
surprise to Mr. Carleton, greater than the other. 

Henry Burns, going down to the shore and scull- 
ing out to the Viking, had found the cabin unlocked, 
as he had recalled; but everything was safe. It was 
comfortable aboard the yacht, and he decided to re- 
main, planning to go ashore early in the morning in 
time for breakfast at the hotel. He sat up for some 
little time, however, and it was, indeed, his cabin 
light that Mr. Carleton had seen, the moment before 
he had extinguished it, to turn in for the night. 

Mr. Carleton, sculling on now cautiously toward 
the Viking, suddenly heard a noise aboard the yacht. 
He paused again, then seated himself quickly at the 
stern of the skiff, as a boyish figure emerged from the 
companionway of the Viking and came out on deck. 
It was Henry Burns, taking one last look at the anchor- 
line, and a general look around, before he went off to 
sleep. 

There was nothing within sight to excite Henry 
Burns’s interest. Everything was all right aboard the 
Viking. There were the few lights still left, up in 
the village streets. There were a few yachts anchored 
at a little distance. There was the dark shore-line, 
with its tumbling sheds huddled together here and 
there. And, also, there was the lone figure of a man, 
seated at the stern of a small skiff, sculling slowly 
down past, some distance away. It was all clear and 
serene in Henry Burns’s eyes, and he went below, 
rolled in on his berth, and went to sleep. 

The lone figure that Henry Burns had seen in the 
skiff had ceased sculling now. He seemed to have no 


MR. CARLETON ARRIVES 159 


destination in view. The oar was drawn aboard and 
the skiff drifted with the tide. What the man in the 
skiff was thinking of — what he contemplated — no 
one could know but he. 

But he resumed his sculling, very softly and slowly, 
after the lapse of a full half-hour. Noiselessly he 
described a circle about the yacht, drawing in nearer 
and nearer. Then he paused irresolutely, once more, 
and waited. Only he could know what would happen 
next. Perhaps he, too, was racked with uncertainty 
and irresolution. For once he seized the oar and 
worked the skiff up to within twenty feet of the gently 
swinging yacht. Then he paused again and waited. 

Henry Burns’s sleep might, perchance, have been 
troubled could he have dreamed of the man now, wait- 
ing and watching just off the starboard bow of the 
Viking, while he slept within. But no dreams dis- 
turbed his sound slumbers. 

Nor did aught else disturb them. For, presently, 
there came out from shore another boat, a rowboat 
with three men in it. They were laughing and jok- 
ing about something that had happened ashore. 

Mr. Carleton, resuming his oar, sculled gently away 
from the Viking, worked his way back again through 
the fleet of yachts whence he had come, drew the skiff 
out of water where he had embarked, dragged it up 
on the beach, and cast it from him roughly. Then he 
strode away up the bank to the hotel, muttering under 
his breath, and looking back out over the water once 
or twice as he ascended the hill, like a man that has 
suffered an unexpected defeat. 


CHAPTER XL 


SQUIRE BRACKETT IS PUZZLED 

H enry burns was up early the next morn- 
ing, as he had planned. He rowed the dory 
quickly in to the landing-place, and was in 
Harvey’s room before that young gentleman was out 
of bed. 

“ Why, I didn’t hear you get up,” said Harvey. 

“ That’s not so surprising,” replied Henry Burns, 
seeing as I got up aboard the Viking. I slept there.” 
‘‘ Is that so ? ” exclaimed Harvey. “ I wonder how 
Mr. Carleton would like that if he knew it. He 
needn’t have hired so big a room just 'for me. Say, 
but he’s a jolly good fellow, though, isn’t he?” 

“ He is certainly a generous one,” answered Henry 
Burns. 

Harvey smiled at his companion. 

‘‘ What is it you don’t like about him, Henry? ” he 
asked. 

“ Why, nothing,” replied Henry Burns. Who 
said I didn’t like him? I never did.” 

No, you didn’t,” admitted Harvey. But I know 
you well enough by this time to tell when you really 
like a person. Now, if I asked you if you like George 
i6o 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


161 


Warren, you’d come out plump and flat and swear 
he is a fine chap, and all that. But you don’t seem 
quite sure about Mr. Carleton. I think he’s the best 
niiin that ever came down here. He likes to have 
a good time with us boys — which is more than most 
men do; he enters into things; he buys everything, 
and he tells good stories. What fault do you find with 
him?” 

“ Not any,” laughed Henry Burns. He’s every- 
thing you say he is, and I think he is one of the most 
generous men I ever met. There, don’t that satisfy 
you? But I’ll tell you one thing, Jack. I was just 
thinking I shouldn’t want to be in Mr. Carleton’s way 
if he had made up his mind to do a certain thing. He’s 
the kind of a man that wouldn’t be interfered with 
when once he was decided.” 

“ How do you make that out? ” asked Harvey. 

“ Oh, just by a lot of little things,” answered Henry 
Burns, “ not any of them of any particular conse- 
quence of themselves. By the way, do you remember 
inviting him to sail down the river ? ” 

“ Why, not exactly,” replied Harvey, somewhat 
puzzled. 

Well, you didn’t,” said Henry Burns, laughing 
quietly. “ He invited himself. He said, ‘ I’ll sail 
down with you,’ or ‘ I’ll go along with you,’ or some- 
thing of that sort. 

‘‘ And do you remember inviting him to go out 
sailing on this trip ? ” continued Henry Burns. 

“ No,” replied Harvey, a little impatiently. 

‘‘ That’s because he invited himself,” said Henry 
Burns, still smiling. “ I remember that he said, ‘ I’ll 


162 rival campers AFLOAT 


go out sailing with you to-morrow.’ That settled it 
in his mind.” 

‘‘ Well, what of it? ” asked Harvey. 

“ Nothing,” replied Henry Burns. I’m just as 
glad as you are that he proposed it. I’ve enjoyed his 
company and his generosity. I only say he is a man 
that I’d rather have for a friend than an enemy.” 

Jack Harvey laughed. 

“ Well, you may be right,” he said. “ I never 
think of looking at anybody as deep as that. If a man 
comes along and wants a sail and wants some fun, 
and is willing to do his share, why, that’s enough 
for me. And if he’s up to any tricks, why, he and I’ll 
fight and have it over with. I don’t worry about what 
might happen.” 

‘‘Did you ever see me worry about anything?” 
asked Henry Burns. 

“ Why, no,” said Harvey, emphatically, “ I never 
did. I meant that I don’t think about things just as 
you do.” 

Which was certainly true. 

If Mr. Carleton had any notion in his head that he 
had, as Harvey had suggested, hired a larger room 
for him and Henry Burns than was really needed — 
or if he had any notion in his head that he had wasted 
his money in hiring any rooms at all at the hotel — he 
showed no sign of it when he appeared in the office 
and they went into the dining-room. Indeed, he 
thought it a good joke on Henry Burns that he should 
have had to go off to the yacht for the night, and he 
laughed very heartily over it, behind his big mous- 
tache, 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


163 


The wind was blowing fresh from the south as the 
party went out on the hotel piazza. It had started 
up early in the morning, along with the beginning of 
tlie flood-tide, which meant, in all likelihood, that it 
would blow fresher from now on until sundown. 
There were already whitecaps to be seen over all the 
bay, and the yachts that were out under sail were 
lying over to it and throwing the spray smartly. It 
was a good morning to show the fine sailing qualities 
of a boat, and they were eager to be off. 

They went down through the town. Then, to where 
the dory was tied. 

As they took hold to drag it down the beach, a 
fisherman, weather-beaten, and smoking a short stub 
of a clay pipe, approached them. Addressing Mr. 
Carleton, he said, good-naturedly, “ Well, you got out 
and back safe, I see. Found your own boat again all 
right, eh?” 

Mr. Carleton, glancing coolly at the man that had 
accommodated him the night before, said, carelessly, 
Guess you’ve got the advantage of me, captain. I’m 
afraid I haven’t the pleasure of your acquaintance.” 

The man slowly removed his pipe and stared at 
Mr. Carleton in amazement. 

“ Wall, I swear ! ” he ejaculated. ‘‘ D’yer mean 
to say it wasn’t you that borrowed my skiff last night 
to go out to your yacht ? ” 

Mr. Carleton laughed heartily. 

“ Well,” he replied, seeing as I haven’t any yacht 
to go out to, in the first place, and seeing as I was 
up at the hotel all last night, I think you must indeed 
have me mixed up in your mind with somebody else. 


164 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


However, if anybody has been using my name around 
here to hire a boat, Tm willing to pay, if you’re a 
loser.” 

Oh, no, sir,” said the man, apologetically. ‘‘ I 
don’t want no pay. I just accommodated somebody, 
and it looked surprisingly like you. Excuse me. Guess 
I must have made a mistake.” 

“ Ho ! that’s all right, no excuse needed,” said Mr. 
Carleton, lightly. You’re going to row us out, are 
you, Harvey? Well, I’ll push her off and sit down 
astern. I’m the heaviest.” 

They rowed out to where the Viking was tossing 
uneasily at her line, as though eager to be free and 
away from the lee of the land, amid the tumbling 
waves. 

It was quite rough outside, and the wind increas- 
ing every minute; so they put a reef in the mainsail 
and set only the forestaysail and a single jib. Then, 
with anchor fished, they were quickly in the midst 
of rough weather, with the spume flying aboard in 
a way that sent them scuttling below for their oil- 
skins. 

The harbour out of which they were now beating 
made inland for a mile or two. The waters ran back 
thence in a salt river for several miles more, before 
they grew brackish, and then were merged into a 
stream of fresh water that had its origin in a pond 
back in the country. It followed, that the waters of 
the harbour flowed in and out with much swiftness 
and strength; and now, the flood-tide and the south 
wind being coincident, coming in together strongly, 
it was slow working out, even with as good a boat 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


165 


as the Viking. There was a heavy sea running, too, 
which served to beat them back. They tacked to and 
fro, but they drew ahead of the landmarks ashore very 
slowly. 

“ I say, my lad,’’ cried Mr. Carleton all at once, 
stepping aft to where Harvey held the wheel, let me 
take her a few minutes and see what I can do, will 
you? Oh, you needn’t be afraid that I’ll upset you,” 
he added, as Harvey somewhat reluctantly complied. 
“ I’ve owned boats and sailed them, too, — as good 
as this one, if I do say it.” 

It was clearly evident, as he seated himself astride 
the helmsman’s seat, that he was no novice. He held 
the yacht with a practised hand, and, moreover, as- 
serted himself with the rights of skipper. 

“ Haul in on that main-sheet a little more,” he said 
to Harvey. 

“ She won’t do as well with the boom so close aft 
in a heavy sea,” replied Harvey. 

“ Oh, yes, she will,” answered Mr. Carleton, coolly. 
‘‘ You are right as a general proposition, but I’ll show 
you something. I’ve been watching the run of the 
tide.” 

Harvey, not agreeing, still acquiesced in the order, 
and hauled the boom aft. 

“ A little more,” insisted Mr. Carleton. There, 
that will do. Now you will see us fetch out of the 
harbour.” 

To Harvey’s surprise, and that of the other boys, 
the yacht certainly was doing better. Mr. Carleton 
held her so close into the wind that the sail almost 


166 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


shook. Every now and then it quivered slightly. 
But they surely were making better progress. 

Well/' admitted Harvey at length, ‘‘ that goes 
against what I've been taught about sailing. The 
sheet a little off in a heavy sea and keep her under 
good headway is Captain Sam’s rule." 

“ Quite correct," said Mr. Carleton, smiling. “ But, 
if you notice, the tide sets swift around that point 
ahead and we get the full force of it. Now, with the 
boat heading off as you had it, don't you see we were 
getting the head wind and head tide both on the same 
side — both hitting the port bow and throwing her 
back? Now, do you see what we are doing? She's 
heading up into the wind so far that the force of 
the tide hits the starboard bow. So we’ve got the 
wind on one side and the tide on the other; and, 
between the two forces, we go ahead.” 

Harvey's respect rose for Mr. Carleton. 

“ That’s right,” he said. I’ve heard something 
of that kind, too. But I never thought much about 
it.” 

“ Well, the tide is three-fourths of sailing,” re- 
sponded Mr. Carleton. Now as we clear this point 
we'll start the sheet off once more a little. It's 
rougher, and we’ll need all the headway we can 
make.” 

It was evident Mr. Carleton was no hotel piazza 
sailor. He was as happy as a boy out of school, as 
he held the wheel with a firm, strong hand, heading 
up for the deep rollers and pointing off again quickly, 
keeping the yacht under good headway, and watching 
the water ahead, and the drawing of the jib, with a 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 167 

practised eye. They had never seen him so enthu- 
siastic. 

He was., somehow, a picture of particular interest 
to' Henry Burns, who had a way of observing how 
persons did things, and who conceived some impres- 
sion of them accordingly, beyond a mere surface one. 

It being a fact, to a degree, that a boat has as many 
peculiarities — one might almost say individualities 
— all its own as a human being, or a horse, it was 
interesting to see how quickly Mr. Carleton took note 
of them and handled his boat accordingly. He seemed 
to realize at once just how she would take the wind; 
how stiffly she would stand up in a flaw; just how 
much the jib and forestaysail needed trimming to be at 
their best; just how to humour the boat in several 
little ways to get the most out of her. And he did 
it all very confidently. 

That he was a man of sharp discernment, and quick 
to learn things, was the impression he made on Henry 
Burns. And if there should come a time when Henry 
Burns, remembering many things which he now ob- 
served, but attached no particular importance to, 
should put them all together and form a conclusion 
regarding them and of Mr. Carleton, why certainly 
there was nought of that in his mind now. 

He did observe one thing, however, in particular, 
and it was in accord with what he had told Harvey 
concerning Mr. Carleton. The man had aggressive- 
ness and determination. Mr. Carleton surely believed 
in holding a boat down to its work. There was no 
timidity, even to a point that bordered on reckless- 
ness, in the way he met the heavier buffetings of the 


168 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


wind. Where a more cautious man would have luffed 
and spilled a little of the wind, Mr. Carleton held the 
wheel firm and let the Viking heel over and take it, 
seeming to know she would go through all right; as 
though he should say, “ You can stand it. Now let’s 
see you do it. I’ll not indulge you. I know what 
you can stand. You can’t fool me.” 

Henry Burns rather liked him for this. There was 
something that he admired in his skill and courage. 

The yacht Viking was weathering the seas grandly. 
She was a boat that did not bury deep in a smother, 
and flounder about and pound hard and lose headway, 
but rode the waves lightly and went easily to wind- 
ward. 

‘‘Works well, doesn’t she?” cried Harvey, enthu- 
siastically. 

“ Splendid, better than ever — better than she did 
coming down the river, and yesterday,” responded 
Mr. Carleton. “ She’d almost stand a gaff-topsail 
even with this breeze. That’s a good clean stick, that 
topmast. However, I guess we’re doing well enough. 
We won’t set it, eh ? ” 

“ Here, you take the wheel,” he said the next mo- 
ment to Henry Burns, whom he had observed eying 
him sharply. “ Let’s see what kind of a sailor you 
are.” 

One might have thought it was Mr. Carleton’s own 
boat. He said it with such an air. 

Henry Burns acquiesced calmly and with that con- 
fidence he had when he knew he could do a thing 
right. Here was another individual who could learn 
things quickly, too; and if Harvey had had more 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


169 


experience than he in actual sailing and handling a 
boat, Henry Burns more than matched him in cool- 
ness and resource. 

You’ll do,” said Mr. Carleton at length. I’ll 
risk my life with you and Harvey any day. How’s 
the crew — are they pretty good sailors, too?” 

“ First class,” said Henry Burns. ‘‘ We’ll show you 
there isn’t a lubber aboard.” And he turned the wheel 
over first to Tom and then to Bob, who acquitted 
themselves very creditably, showing they had picked 
up the knowledge of sailing wonderfully well. 

“ Good ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. “ That’s the 
way to run a boat. Give every man a chance to get 
the hang of it. One never knows what’s going to 
happen to a sailboat and who’s going overboard, or 
get tangled up in a sheet, or something the matter; 
and then it pays to have a crew any one of whom can 
take hold at a moment’s notice and lend a hand.” 

So, having established himself in their confidence, 
and with mutual good feeling aboard, Mr. Carleton 
declared himself well pleased with their trip, as they 
beat up to Southport harbour. He hadn’t enjoyed 
himself so much in years, he said. And he thanked 
them cordially for his good time, as they rowed him 
ashore. 

‘‘ We’re much obliged to you, too,” replied Har- 
vey, for the fun you’ve given us.” 

‘‘ Oh, that don’t amount to anything,” said Mr. 
Carleton. 

Mr. Carleton, oddly enough, had occasion to make 
Henry Burns and Jack Harvey an apology not many 
hours afterward. 


170 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The afternoon and evening had passed, and the two 
yachtsmen, leaving Tom and Bob to spend the night 
ashore in their tent, had gone out aboard the Viking. 
They had sat up reading until about half-past ten 
o’clock, — rather later than usual, — when a most 
unexpected visitor appeared. It was none other than 
Mr. Carleton, rowing alongside in a small rowboat 
belonging to Captain Sam. He made this fast now 
and climbed aboard. 

“ Really this is imposing on your hospitality,” he 
said, appearing at the companionway. “ But the fact 
is. I’m in a bit of a scrape. I’ve left my key in an- 
other pair of trousers in Captain Curtis’s house, and 
the door is locked there, and they’re evidently all fast 
asleep, as it’s getting on to eleven. I hated to wake 
them up, so I came down on the point and looked 
in at your friends’ tent. They were sleeping like good 
fellows, too, and I couldn’t see any extra blanket to 
roll up in. Then I spied your light out aboard here. 
Do you think you can spare me a bunk and a blanket 
for a night ? ” 

We’ll be only too glad to return your favour of 
last night,” replied Henry Burns. 

“ Though you didn’t make use of it yourself, eh,” 
said Mr. Carleton, smiling. 

They were off to sleep then in short order, Henry 
Burns and Harvey occupying the cushioned berths 
amidships, and their guest one of the same just for- 
ward, where Tom or Bob usually slept. 

There was really nothing of consequence occurring 
in the night, to be recorded, except a slight incident 
that showed Mr. Carleton to be a bad sleeper. 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


171 


Perhaps it was the strange quarters he was in that 
made him restless, so that he lay for an hour or two 
listening to the deep breathing of the boys, himself 
wiHe awake. Yet he was considerate, was Mr. Carle- 
ton, and made no move to arouse them. 

Even when he sat up, after a time, and threw the 
blanket off, and lit a match under the cover of the 
blanket to read the face of his watch by, he did it 
very softly. Perhaps, even then, he was solicitous lest 
their sleep be disturbed; for he stole quietly along 
to where they lay, and made sure he had not aroused 
them. 

By and by, Mr. Carleton made another move. Tak- 
ing the blanket that had covered him, he pinned it 
up so that it hung from the roof of the cabin as a sort 
of curtain. Then he lighted one of the cabin lamps, 
turning it down so that it shone only very dimly. 

“ Hang it, I don’t know what makes me so wake- 
ful,” he said, in a low voice. “ That light doesn’t 
disturb either of you boys, does it ? ” 

There was no answer. But Mr. Carleton, appar- 
ently to make certain, repeated the question two or 
three times, very softly, so as not to arouse them if 
they were sleeping, but to be overheard in case one 
of them should be awake. And he repeated also the 
remark several times about his sleeplessness. 

And also did he mutter to himself, so that none 
other could by any possibility have overheard, “ Per- 
haps a light will show. I couldn’t make anything out 
by daylight.” 

A moment or two after that, Henry Burns, opening 
one sleepy eye to an unusual though faint ray of 


172 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


light, escaping from behind the blanket, beheld the 
figure of Mr. Carleton moving about the forward part 
of the cabin. He lay still for a moment wondering, 
drowsily, what was the matter. Perhaps he might 
have observed the figure for some time in silence, 
but of a sudden he was seized of an overpowering 
impulse to sneeze, and did so lustily. 

The figure with the lantern jumped as though it 
had received a blow. Then, by the light of the lantern, 
the blanket being whisked aside, Mr. Carleton was 
revealed, with a paper-covered novel in one hand, 
seating himself in the attitude of one reading. 

“ That’s too bad,” he said, softly. I thought the 
blanket would hide my light. I got restless, you see, 
and have been reading a bit. Pm all right now 
though, I think. I’ll douse the light and try again. 
Sorry I disturbed you.” 

The light went out. Hence neither Henry Burns 
nor any one else could by any possibility have seen the 
look of anger and disappointment on the face of Mr. 
Carleton as he turned in and lay down to sleep — this 
time in earnest. 

While thus living his boyhood over again with 
his new youthful acquaintances, Mr. Carleton did not 
neglect to establish friendly relations with older per- 
sons. Squire Brackett admired him greatly. As 
matter of fact, to a designing person, the squire was 
the easiest man in the world to win admiration from. 

He had an inordinate vanity and love of flattery, 
which, united with a pompous manner, made him un- 
bearable to those of discrimination ; and this entrance 
to his good graces was quickly espied by Mr. Carle- 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


173 


ton. The squire liked that quiet, but perceptible, 
deference that came to him from a person of such 
apparent means. 

There was, however, another reason that appealed 
even more strongly to the squire why he should culti- 
vate Mr. Carleton, and that was a hint the squire 
had gained that his new acquaintance might prove 
profitable to him. 

“ Squire Brackett,” said Mr. Carleton, seated for 
the evening on the squire’s front porch, that’s a 
pretty little island just below here, close to shore, 
between here and where those four boys are camping. 
Do you know. I’d like to own that. I have an idea 
a man could throw out a neat, rustic bridge from 
shore, just big enough to take a horse and carriage 
across, build a cottage out there, and have the most 
beautiful place about here.” 

“Well, why don’t you buy it?” replied the squire. 
“ It would, indeed, be a rare cottage site — prettiest 
spot around here, I say.” 

“ I think perhaps I will,” said Mr. Carleton; “ that 
is, if it is for sale. Do you know anything about 
that?” 

“ Why,” answered the squire, “ I guess I come 
about as near as anybody to owning it. You see, I 
hold a mortgage on it.” 

“ How much do you value it at ? ” asked Mr. Carle- 
ton. 

“ Why, let me see,” said the squire ; “ about twenty- 
five hundred dollars, I should say.” 

“ Cheap enough ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. “ I’ll 
just write up to my lawyers and see how some invest- 


174 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


merits I have are turning out. I think we can make 
a trade later on.” 

He said it as though it was a trifling matter, and 
the squire, who had named an exorbitant figure, was 
sorry he had not put it higher. He also had neglected 
to explain that his hold on the land was of the slight- 
est, consisting, as it did, of a mortgage of eight hun- 
dred dollars against Billy Cook, the owner, who had 
paid off all but two hundred dollars of the incum- 
brance. However, he had no doubt he could easily 
buy it of Billy Cook — indeed, he had had it offered 
to him for only four hundred dollars above the entire 
mortgage the year before. 

“ You ought to have a good boat to cruise around 
here with,” said the squire. “ You’re fond of sailing, 
I see. Reckon you know how to handle a boat pretty 
well yourself.” 

The squire knew he hadn’t any boat to sell that 
would suit Mr. Carleton, calling to mind his son’s 
letter from him about the Viking; but he had a pur- 
pose in suggesting the buying of one. He considered 
that if Mr. Carleton should make such a purchase, 
and become fascinated with the sailing about South- 
port, he would be more likely to want the land to 
build a cottage on. 

“Yes, I am very fond of sailing,” responded Mr. 
Carleton, “ but I haven’t got so far as to think about 
buying a boat just yet.” 

“Oh, ho! you haven’t, eh?” said the squire to 
himself. “ Reckon I know something about that.” 

The squire was vastly tickled. Here was a position 
that just suited his crafty nature. It didn’t signify 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


175 


anything, to be sure, Mr. Carleton’s dissembling, — 
probably that he might get a better bargain by keep- 
ing quiet and not seeming anxious to buy, — but it 
pleased the squire to have this little advantage in the 
situation. 

“ I think you might buy the Viking/' he sug- 
gested. 

Mr. Carleton had his own doubts about this, having 
been informed by Harry Brackett of the failure of 
his attempt, but he merely said, ‘‘That so? Well, 
she might do. Ever hear of anything queer about 
her — any outs about her ? 

“ No,” replied the squire, “ nothing queer about her, 
except the way they got her. I don’t know of any 
faults that she has.” 

“ Well, I might buy her if they didn’t hold her too 
high,” said Mr. Carleton, meditatively. “ I suppose 
she’s worth fifteen hundred dollars easy enough.” 

“ Yes, and more if you had her up Boston way,” 
answered the squire. “ You haven’t had any idea of 
buying her, then ? ” 

“ No,” responded Mr. Carleton. “ Still, I might 
like to. But please don’t say anything about it.” 

“ Oh, no,” replied the squire, chuckling to himself. 

Mr. Carleton, bidding him good night and taking 
his departure, was more than ever an object of inter- 
est to the squire. Here was a man that spoke in the 
most casual and nonchalant way of investing twenty- 
five hundred dollars in a piece of land that he liked, 
and of buying a fifteen-hundred-dollar boat. The 
squire’s curiosity, always keen in other persons’ affairs, 
was aroused. He wondered — in the usual trend of 


176 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


such personal curiosity — how the other man had made 
his money. 

This curiosity was not abated, to say the least, by 
a comparatively trifling incident that occurred a day 
or two following. The squire had, in the cupola of his 
house, which he used as a vantage-point for surveying 
the bay far out to sea, and the surrounding country up 
and down the island, a large telescope. It was a 
powerful glass, with which he could ‘‘ pick up ” a 
vessel away down among the islands, and read the 
name on the stern of one a mile away. The squire 
had some interests in several small schooners plying 
between the coast cities and Benton, and was in the 
habit of going up to his lookout two or three times 
each day. 

On this particular occasion, the squire, after sweep- 
ing the bay with the glass, turned it inland and took 
a look down the island. He could distinguish several 
familiar wagons passing along the main road, but 
nothing unusual. But, when he happened to turn the 
glass almost directly back inland from the direction 
of the town, he caught an object in its sweep that 
arrested his attention. It was the figure of his new 
acquaintance, Mr. Carleton, leaning against some 
pasture bars about a quarter of a mile away, intently 
reading a letter. 

There was surely nothing unusual nor exciting 
about this, and yet the squire was interested. Perhaps 
it was due just to the novelty of observing a man a 
quarter of a mile away, reading a letter, when he 
could by no possibility be aware that he was being 
observed. 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


177 


But if the squire’s attention was drawn to Mr. 
Carleton in the act of reading the letter, it was cer- 
tainly doubled and trebled when the latter, having 
finished his perusal of it, waved the letter in a seem- 
ingly triumphant manner about his head and then 
tore it into many little pieces and dropped the pieces 
at his feet. Squire Brackett, through the spy-glass, 
watched Mr. Carleton come down through the fields 
toward the village. 

He knew the exact spot to the inch where Mr. 
Carleton had stood. It was at the bars that divided 
a pasture belonging to the postmaster and a piece of 
town property. The squire shut the sliding glass 
windows that protected his lookout, hurried out-of- 
doors, walked briskly up through the fields, making 
a detour to avoid meeting Mr. Carleton, and arrived, 
somewhat short of breath, at the bars. He gathered 
up the pieces of the letter carefully. He put them into 
his coat-pocket, and walked briskly back to his house. 

He hadn’t got them all, for the wind had carried 
some away. But the letter had evidently been a brief 
one. When the squire took the pieces out that after- 
noon at his desk in a little room that he called his 
office, there were only eleven scraps that he could 
assemble. Mr. Carleton had torn the letter into small 
bits. 

The squire was disappointed. He had hoped to 
gratify his curiosity and be able to pry into Mr. Carle- 
ton’s private affairs a little. And withal, there were 
two words that interested him greatly and made his 
disappointment all the more keen. These were two 
words that followed, one the other, in the sequence in 


178 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


which they had been written. They were the words, 
‘‘ aboard yacht.” All the others had been so separated 
in the destruction of the letter that the squire de- 
spaired of ever being able to make anything out of 
them, or to restore them to anything like their orig- 
inal consecutive form. 

However, he arranged the words and scraps of 
words by pasting them on a sheet of paper, as follows : 


lock 

ey 

must be 

sound 

mbers 

aboard yacht 

starboa 

still 

under 

ays 

third 


** Well, there’s a puzzle for you ! ” he exclaimed, 
dubiously. How in the world shall I ever be able 
to make anything out of that ? ” But the next mo- 
ment he gave a chuckle of exultation. “ I’ve got part 
of it already ! ” he cried. “ Lucky I happened to set 
them down just this way. Those letters, ‘ mbers’ 
must have been part of the word ‘ timbers.’ So that, 
after the first three scraps that I have put down, it 
reads, ‘ sound timbers aboard yacht.’ I’ll get some- 
thing out of this yet. There’s ‘ starboa,’ too. That’s 
‘ starboard,’ of course. And ‘ ays ’ below may be 
‘ stays.’ That might make ^ starboard stays.’ ” 

A look of perplexity came over the squire’s face the 
next moment. 


SQUIRE IS PUZZLED 


179 


‘‘ The queer thing about this,” he said, reflectively, 
‘‘ is that somebody away from here is writing him 
about this yacht. Perhaps they don’t mean the Vi- 
king. However, I believe that is the boat referred 
to. Well, he may be only getting advice from some 
one as to how to examine the yacht — how to look 
her over. The remark about ‘ sound timbers ’ sounds 
like that, anyway. So ho! he isn’t thinking about 
buying a yacht, eh ? ” 

The squire chuckled. 

I’ll study this over at my leisure,” he said, as he 
placed the paper with the letters pasted on it care- 
fully away in a drawer. ‘‘I’ll figure it out.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL AGAIN 

T he work on the Surprise had gone on fa- 
mously, though it had been a hard task. The 
labour of cleaning her, inside and out, had 
been well begun down in the Thoroughfare, but there 
remained still much to be done after she had been 
floated up into the harbour of Southport. 

First, the boys had brought her in on the beach, at 
a point a little way up the cove from the Warren 
cottage, where there was a break in the rocky shore, 
and a clean strip of sand extended back from the 
water’s edge. There they had raised her on blocks 
and shored her up so they could work to advantage. 

They swarmed over and in and out of her then 
like ants in an ant-hill, every boy lending a hand, 
from the Warren brothers to the campers down be- 
low. They scrubbed and scraped her, inside and out, 
and washed her insides with soap and hot water. 

Then, following Captain Sam’s advice, they built 
a fire on the shore and melted a kettle full of pitch 
and tar. When they had gone over the entire plank- 
ing of the boat, setting up the nails that had slack- 
ened with the straining it had undergone, and had 
i8o 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 181 


driven many new ones in between, Harvey, equipped 
with an enormous brush, and having taken up the 
cabin flooring, smeared the inner part of the boat’s 
planking with the tar and pitch, filling all the seams 
with it. 

Then they went over the entire hull on the exterior, 
tightening it up, scraping, sandpapering, and rubbing 
until their hands were blistered and their arms ached. 
Then came the painting of the cabin and outer hull, 
and the scraping and varnishing of the decks. The 
mast and ballast they had brought up from the 
Thoroughfare. The latter, cleansed of its rust and 
given a coating of hot coal-tar, was ready to be 
stowed aboard. The mast, scraped and varnished till 
it glistened once more, had been carefully stepped 
and fastened above and below. The yacht Surprise, 
with clean, shining spars, with polished, glistening 
decks, and with hull spotless white, was ready once 
more for the water. Long before they had tested 
their work with innumerable buckets of water thrown 
aboard, and had found her tight and not a leak re- 
maining. 

Jack Harvey eyed the yacht admiringly, as he 
paused, half-way up the bank from where she stood. 
His companions in the day’s work had gone on 
ahead. 

“ She’s a fine old boat,” he said, ‘‘ and she’s just 
as good as new. I’ve had a lot of fun in her, too. 
I’ll never have any more fun in the Viking than I’ve 
had in her, though the Viking is bigger and hand- 
somer. I’d be satisfied with the Surprise if I hadn’t 
got the other one,” 


182 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The moment seemed almost opportune for the offer 
that followed. 

‘‘ That’s a fine craft there,” cried a voice so close 
in Harvey’s ear that it made him jump, for he had 
been so lost in the admiration of the Surprise that he 
had not heard the sound of any one approaching. He 
turned quickly, and there was Mr. Carleton. 

Doesn’t look much as though she had been under 
water all winter, does she ? ” asked Harvey. 

I should say not,” replied Mr. Carleton. “ Looks 
as though she was just out of the shipyard. I don’t 
see what you need of the Viking when you’ve got such 
a boat as this. You’d better let me hire the Viking 
from you for the rest of the summer.” 

“ Sorry,” replied Harvey, but I can’t do it. You 
see. I’ve promised to let the crew have this boat, and 
they have set their hearts on it. I wouldn’t disap- 
point them now for a hundred dollars.” 

How about two hundred dollars ? ” suggested Mr. 
Carleton. 

Harvey hesitated for a moment. 

“No!” he cried, determinedly, “not for a thou- 
sand dollars. There! I’ve said it, and I mean it. 
I want the money bad enough, too. But the crew 
are going to have this boat. We’ve made all the ar- 
rangements, and we are using the Viking for fishing, 
and we’ve got to be off for another trip, too, for we 
have been about here, earning nothing, for quite 
awhile now.” 

“ I’ll give you eighteen hundred dollars if you will 
sell the Viking” said Mr. Carleton. 

Harvey shook his head stubbornly. 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 183 


“ No use,” he said. But,” he added, “ you can 
arrange with the crew to take you sailing easy enough 
when we aren’t around here. They’ll be glad to have 
you go.” 

“Hm!” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. ‘‘Well, all 
right; but if you change your mind, let me know. 

“When are you going to launch this one?” he 
added. 

“ Why, I think we’ll put her into the water this 
evening,” replied Harvey. “ That is, if we don’t 
get a shower. The moon will be up and the tide right. 
That’s why we are coming away so early now. We’re 
going up to the Warren cottage to get out some 
Japanese lanterns, and get the cannon ready. When 
we launch her, we are going to run a line from the 
masthead to the stern, and hang a chain of the lan- 
terns, light them, and tow the Surprise around to the 
wharf in style, and fire a salute. Then she’ll be ready 
for Captain Sam to fit the sails in the morning. Better 
come around and see the fun.” 

“Will you all be over here?” inquired Mr. Carle- 
ton. 

“ The whole crowd,” answered Harvey. 

“ Then I’ll be on hand sure,” said Mr. Carleton — 
but added to himself, “ if I don’t have something else 
to do.” 

There seemed to be no prospect of anybody taking 
part in a launching on this particular evening, how- 
ever, for the dark clouds that had warned Harvey 
spread over the sky, and a quickly gathering summer 
shower was soon upon them. Harvey hurried up to 


184 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the Warren cottage for shelter, and Mr. Carleton 
started back on the run toward Captain Sam’s. 

A rowboat or two out in the harbour put hurriedly 
in to shore. The occupant of one of these latter craft, 
scurrying in and dashing homeward, had, it seems, 
been noticed by Squire Brackett through his glass 
from his observation-tower. 

“ Harry,” he said, as that young man came into 
the house, somewhat red in the face and out of breath, 
“ what were you doing just now out around the 
Viking? I saw you row out behind her, and it took 
you at least three minutes or more to come in sight 
again. You didn’t go aboard her, did you?” 

‘‘ No, I didn’t go aboard,” replied Harry Brackett, 
sulkily. 

‘‘ Well, see that you don’t,” said Squire Brackett, 
emphatically. ‘‘ You might not mean any harm by 
it, but you’ve had some trouble with those boys al- 
ready this summer, and they wouldn’t like having you 
aboard unless they invited you.” 

Hm ! well, if I wait for that I’ll never step aboard 
that boat,” exclaimed Harry Brackett. “ And what’s 
more, I don’t want to go aboard. I wouldn’t go if 
they asked me.” 

Having thus declared himself, Harry Brackett 
bolted his supper and vanished. 

The shower, of rapid approach, was of equally 
brief duration. It had begun raining big, splashing 
drops about half-past four o’clock. Now, an hour 
later, it was brightening again, the sun darting its 
rays forth from the breaking cloud-banks, and the 
rain-drops dripping only from eaves and tree-branches. 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 185 


Henry Burns and Harvey were vastly elated. The 
launching need not be put off, for the evening would 
be fair. They left the Warren cottage and hurried 
down alongshore to where they had left their tender, 
rowed out to the Viking, and began their preparations 
for supper. 

“ Henry,” said Harvey, “ there’s some sunlight 
left yet, and just enough breeze to dry the sails nicely 
before we leave. The sooner they are dried the less 
likely they are to mildew. Shall we run them up ? ” 

“ Yes, let’s be quick about it,” replied Henry Burns. 
‘‘ The fire’s ready for the biscuit.” 

They seized the halyards, one the throat and the 
other the peak, and began hauling. The sail went up 
smartly — when, all at once, there was an ominous, 
ripping sound. 

‘‘ Hold on! ” cried Harvey, ‘‘ something is caught.” 

‘‘ Well, I should say there was ! ” exclaimed Henry 
Burns, when he had made his halyard fast, and 
started to examine. “ Cracky I but there are two big 
tears in the sail.” 

“ I don’t see how that can be,” said Harvey, join- 
ing him. “ It’s a stout, new mainsail.” 

“ Why, I see what did the mischief,” he exclaimed, 
the next moment. “ The reefing-points are caught 
in two places. That’s funny. We shook all the reefs 
out the last time we brought her in.” 

‘‘ Look and see if it’s funny,” said Henry Burns, 
quietly. “ I suppose somebody thought it was funny. 
Those knots didn’t tie themselves.” 

Harvey examined them, while his face reddened 
with anger. 


186 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ ril bet I could guess who did that!” he cried. 

“ We’ll attend to his case if you guess right,” re- 
sponded Henry Burns. 

The knots certainly could not have caught them- 
selves. There had been design in the act. In two 
places along the sail, one of the points for the fourth 
reef had been tied with one of the first. The conse- 
quence of this was, that when the united strength of 
the boys had come to bear directly on these two places, 
instead of being exerted evenly along the entire sail, 
the canvas had given away. 

Harvey clinched his fist for a moment, opened his 
lips, as though about to give vent to his anger, and 
then suddenly subsided, with an expression on his 
face that half-amused Henry Burns. 

‘‘ Say, Henry,” he said, “ I’ve played the same kind 
of a joke myself before this, so I guess I might as 
well grin and bear it. But,” he continued, doubling up 
his fist once more, “ perhaps I won’t take it out of 
that young Harry Brackett just the same, if I find out 
he did it.” 

Henry Burns smiled assent. 

“ Never mind,” he said. ‘‘We can mend the tears 
so they won’t show much.” 

They untied the knots, raised the sail, and let it 
dry while they ate their supper. 

“ Say, Tim,” said Harvey, an hour later, as they 
stood on shore by Tom and Bob’s tent, where the 
campers from down below had also assembled, “ will 
you do something for me ? ” 

“Sure,” replied Little Tim. “What is it?” 

“ Well, we want you to stay out aboard the Viking 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 187 


while we go up the cove and get the Surprise off and 
float her around,” said Harvey. ‘‘ You see, Henry 
and I have decided not to leave the Viking deserted 
at night after this — that is, unless we have to. But 
what we want to-night particularly is for you to stay 
aboard and keep watch, and see if you notice Harry 
Brackett around the shore or the wharf, looking off 
toward the Viking. He’s played us a fine trick, and 
made us tear our mainsail — that is, we think he did 
it. But whoever it was will probably be around to 
see if the trick worked. You don’t mind, do you?” 

“ No-o-o,” answered Tim; but don’t fire the can- 
non till you get around the point.” 

“ We won’t,” said Harvey. ‘‘ Here’s the key to the 
cabin.” 

Little Tim rowed out aboard. 

It seemed, however, as though his vigil was to be 
a fruitless one. Certainly, Harry Brackett failed to 
put in an appearance. Little Tim stretched himself 
out on the seat and waited impatiently. 

I don’t see what Jack wanted to make me stay 
here for,” he remarked, when eight o’clock had come 
and gone and it was close upon nine, and the moon 
was rising. 

Presently, however, he sat up and listened. Yes, 
there was somebody rowing out from shore. Tim 
strained his eyes eagerly. Then shortly he made out 
a somewhat familiar figure. 

Hello, Mr. Carleton,” he called; I thought they 
said you were going up to the launching.” 

The man in the boat stopped rowing abruptly, and 


188 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


turned in his seat. But if he was surprised to find 
anybody aboard the Viking he did not show it. 

So I am,” he replied. “ Don’t you want to go 
up with me? ” 

‘‘ Can’t do it,” replied Little Tim. I’m on watch. 
You’d better hurry, though. The tide is about up. 
She’ll be afloat soon now.” 

Mr. Carleton rowed away. But he was not over- 
impatient, it would seem, for he rowed leisurely. In 
fact, he did not get up to the place of the launching 
at all, but paused off the wharf and sat idly in the 
stern of his boat, smoking and enjoying the beauty 
of the rising moon. 

The yacht Surprise was at last afloat in all its glory 
of new paint and shining spars. She came around the 
point presently, towed by two boats filled with the 
boys, the string of lanterns, with candles lighted, 
swaying almost dangerously in the night breeze. The 
rowers halted abreast the Viking, the report of the 
cannon rang out over the waters and up through the 
quiet town, and the Surprise, now at anchor, lay wait- 
ing for the morrow, when Captain Sam should stretch 
the sails. 

Great success, wasn’t it?” cried Tom Harris to 
the occupant of a rowboat that had drifted up to 
them. 

“ Great ! ” replied Mr. Carleton. ‘‘ Great ! Sorry 
I didn’t get over in time to see her go into the 
water.” 

Mr. Carleton made up for his delinquency the next 
day, however, for he was on hand early, and was 
much interested in the work of Captain Sam. He 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 189 

knew something of reeving rigging, too, it seemed, 
and lent a hand now and then. Joe Hinman and the 
crew liked him better than ever for it. 

He was down again after dinner, too, and ready 
as ever to be of assistance. 

‘‘ Hello,” he said, looking over toward the Viking, 
** are the other chaps going to play truant this after- 
noon, and leave us to rig the Surprise? I see they’ve 
got sail up.” 

“ Oh, they’re off for a week’s fishing down among 
the islands,” said Joe. “ Jack said for us to go ahead 
and run the Surprise as soon as Captain Sam gets 
her ready. There they start now. They’ve cast off.” 

The Viking was, indeed, under way, with Henry 
Burns and Harvey and Tom and Bob waving fare- 
well. 

“ Where are you bound ? ” called Mr. Carleton, 
springing to the rail and hailing the Viking. 

Down the bay, fishing,” answered Harvey. 

“Great!” cried Mr. Carleton. “Bring her up a 
minute, and I’ll come aboard and make the trip with 
you.” 

Harvey looked at Henry Burns inquiringly. 

Henry Burns glanced back at Mr. Carleton, but 
without altering the course of the yacht. 

“ Good-bye,” he called, pleasantly. “ Sorry, but 
we’ve got a full crew. Couldn’t pay you high enough 
wages, anyway. Next trip, perhaps. Good-bye, fel- 
lows.” 

Mr. Carleton watched the yacht, footing it fleetly 
southward; and there was a look of genuine disap- 
pointment on his face. 


190 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“Never mind,” said Joe Hinman, “ come along 
with us. We’re off for a little cruise ourselves, in the 
morning. We’d like to have you go.” 

“ No, thanks,” replied Mr. Carleton. “ I think I 
will wait ashore this trip — yes, I will go, too,” he 
said in the next breath. “ I tell you where we will 
go. We’ll sail down to Stoneland. I haven’t been 
down that far yet. I’m with you.” 

“ All right,” said Joe. As a matter of fact, he had 
not contemplated so long a trip until the sails had 
been fully stretched and fitted under Captain Sam’s 
eye. But there was something positive about Mr. 
Carleton’s assertion. He said it with an assurance 
that seemed to take it for granted that that settled 
it. So Joe good-naturedly acquiesced. 

“ By the way,” said Mr. Carleton the next morning, 
when they had met outside Rob Dakin’s store, “ have 
3^ou got a chart of these waters aboard? ” 

“ No,” answered Joe. “ Jack has all that stuff 
aboard the Viking. But we don’t need a chart around 
this bay, do we, fellows? Not to go as far as Stone- 
land even. We know the bay all right.” 

“ Well, I don’t doubt that,” responded Mr. Carle- 
ton; “but I like to see where I am sailing for my 
own information. I’ll get one in the store.” 

Mr. Carleton providing not only a chart for the 
voyage, but a quantity of provisions as well, they set 
out in high feather. It certainly was a stroke of 
luck, now that Harvey’s pocket-money was low, to 
have so liberal a passenger. 

He was an interested and discerning sailor, too, 
was Mr. Carleton. He had a sailor’s interest to read 


THE SURPRISE SETS SAIL 191 


the depth of water on the chart as they sailed, and to 
note the points of land off at either hand, and the 
islands by name, as they went southward. And he 
traced it all accurately on the chart as they progressed, 
with a little pencilling, especially when they sailed 
between some small islands at the foot of Grand Island. 

“ I like to know where I am, don’t you ? ” he asked 
of Joe Hinman. “ I may buy a yacht of my own 
down here some day.” 

He was interested in the harbour of Stoneland, too, 
and in the town; and he took them all up to a store 
there and bought them bottled soda, and bought 
their supper the night of their arrival there — which 
was the second night after their departure from South- 
port. 

Then, at his suggestion, they cruised a little way 
down the channel that was the thoroughfare out to 
sea, on the following morning, and would have liked 
to go farther, but that Joe Hinman declared they must 
be getting back, as the crew had an idea of doing 
some fishing on their own account, to help Harvey 
out with expenses. 

There ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton, as they headed 
about finally, there’s our course by the chart, laid 
down as fine as you please. I’m going to give this 
chart to you — after I amuse myself with it awhile.” 

But be it recorded that when the trip had been 
ended, several days later, Mr. Carleton did not leave 
the chart aboard the Surprise, but took it ashore with 
him. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


STORMY WEATHER 

^ I ^ 00 bad we couldn’t take Carleton along with 
I us,” said Harvey, as the yacht Viking, with 
all sail spread, was beating down the bay. 
“ He ought to have asked us sooner. We might have 
managed to make room for him.” 

“ You mean, he ought to have said he was going 
sooner,” said Henry Burns, slyly. 

Oh, I suppose so,” replied Harvey, half-impa- 
tiently. ‘‘ I see, you never will quite like our new 
friend. By the way, that reminds me, he wants to 
buy the Viking. He says he will give us eighteen 
hundred dollars. That’s the second offer we’ve had 
this summer.” 

‘‘Are you sure it isn’t the same one?” suggested 
Henry Burns. 

“ Why, of course it is,” cried Jack Harvey. “ Sure 
enough, that’s what Harry Brackett was up to. He 
was buying for Mr. Carleton — just trying to show 
off, and make us think he had all that money.” 

“ That’s queer, too,” remarked Henry Burns, “ that 
Mr. Carleton should try to buy the Viking after just 
that one short sail down the river.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” returned Harvey ; “ he saw 
what the boat could do — at least, in smooth water. 


192 


STORMY WEATHER 


193 


No, that wouldn’t quite answer, either. He must have 
heard about her from some of the fishermen over at 
Bellport.” 

“Well, do you want to sell?” inquired Henry 
Burns. 

“ Not much ! ” replied Harvey, emphatically. “ I 
know you don’t, either, although you don’t say so.” 

“ Well, that’s true; I’d rather not,” admitted Henry 
Bums. 

The wind was light, and they had only reached 
Hawk Island by six o’clock. So, not caring to risk 
another experience making Loon Island Harbour in 
the night, they anchored, and sailed over the next 
morning. They had provided bait for two days’ fish- 
ing before they left Southport, so they stood on past 
Loon Island Harbour and ran out direct to the fish- 
ing-grounds. 

They had a fair afternoon’s fishing, and also set two 
short pieces of trawl, for hake, a few fathoms off 
from one of the reefs. Captain Sam had provided 
them with these. They were long lines, each with 
about a hundred hooks attached at intervals by short 
pieces of line. At either end of the trawl-line was 
a sinker, and also a line extending to the surface of 
the water where it was attached to a buoy. This, 
floating conspicuously on the water, would mark the 
spot where the trawl had been set. 

Baiting these many hooks all along the trawl with 
herring, bought for the purpose at Southport, they 
set them at a point lying between two reefs, in about 
twenty-five fathoms of water^, where Will Hackett 


194 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


had informed them there was a strip of soft, muddy 
bottom, a feeding-ground frequented by these fish. 

Then they ran in to harbour with their catch of cod, 
and took them up to the trader’s wharf. 

We’re going to have some hake for you, too,” 
said Henry Burns. “ That is, we expect to. What 
are you paying for hake these days ? ” 

The trader, Mr. Hollis, eyed the young fisherman 
with an amused expression. 

“ Going right into the business, aren’t you ? ” he 
said. “ Well, I like to see you young fellows with 
some spunk. Don’t fetch in so many that I can’t 
handle ’em,” he added, with a twinkle in his eye; 
“ and if you underrun your trawls twice a day, so 
the fish will come in here good and fresh. I’ll pay 
you half a cent a pound. You’ll find it some work, 
though, when the sea is running strong. Got to take 
the fish off the hooks in the morning, and then under- 
run again at evening and bait up all the hooks for the 
night’s catch.” 

“ We’ll do that all right,” responded Henry Burns. 

We’ll bring them in fresh.” 

They put in hard, busy days now, rising at the 
first of daylight and going outside as soon as the 
wind would allow. They had only one dory with 
which to tend the trawls, so two of the boys usually 
tended one, and then the other two took their turn. 
It proved, indeed, hard work when the sea was high. 

If the night’s catch had been good, the trawls came 
up heavy; and there was ever the danger, with the 
pitching of the boat, of running one of the innumer- 
able hooks into the hands. But they soon became 


STORMY WEATHER 


195 


expert at it, learning how to sit braced in the boat and 
hold the trawl with a firm grasp, so that it might not 
slip through the hands, and how to unhook the fish. 

Then, when they had underrun both trawls, they 
would stand off in the Viking for a different feeding- 
ground for the cod, and fish until it was time to bait 
up the trawls for the night. 

By degrees, they came to learn other feeding- 
grounds than the few Will Hackett had shown them, 
by following the little fleet; and they went now, 
occasionally, clear across the bay that lay between 
Loon Island and South Haven Island. This was 
often rough water, for they were at the very entrance 
to the bay, at the open sea, and the waves piled in 
heavily, even when the wind was light, showing there 
had been a disturbance far out. This took them to 
the shoal water in about the reefs at the foot of Soufli 
Haven Island, a protected spot from the north, under 
the lee, but open to the full sweep of the sea from the 
south. 

It was in this place at about five of the afternoon, 
on the fourth day following their arrival, that they 
experienced a sudden and startling change of weather. 

They had gone out in the morning, with a light 
southerly breeze blowing, which had held steadily 
throughout the day. But now, near sundown, it had 
died away, so that they had weighed anchor and were 
about to beat back slowly across the bay, toward har- 
bour. 

They had scarcely got under way, however, when 
the wind, with , extraordinary fickleness, fell off alto- 
gether, a strange and unusual calm succeeding. 


196 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


‘‘ That's queer ! " exclaimed Harvey, glancing 
about with some apprehension. ‘‘ Looks as though 
we were hung up here for the night. It won’t do to 
try to anchor near these reefs, and we can’t fetch 
bottom where we are. I guess we are in for a row 
of a mile to get under the lee of one of those little 
islands where we can lie safe.” 

They were about half a mile out from the nearest 
line of reefs, floating idly on the long swells, with 
the sails flapping and the boom swinging inboard in 
annoying fashion. 

Henry Bums groaned. 

“ Oh my ! ” he exclaimed. “ What a beastly stroke 
of luck. I’m tired enough to turn in now. Don’t 
you suppose we’ll get a little evening breeze? ” 

“We may,” replied Harvey, “but there’s some- 
thing queer in the way the wind dropped all of a 
sudden. I’m afraid we’ve seen the last of the breeze 
for to-day.” 

But Jack Harvey’s prophecy was refuted with 
startling suddenness. 

“ Jack,” said Bob, almost the next moment, 

“ there’s something queer about the water just along 
the line of the reefs and the shore back of them.” 

He pointed, as he spoke, to a strange, white light 
that lay in a long, thin line just off the land, a half- 
mile ahead. It was almost ghostly, with a brilliant, 
unnatural whiteness. And, even as they gazed, its 
area rapidly extended and broadened. 

Harvey shot a quick glance ahead. Then he sprang 
from the wheel and seized the throat-halyard. 

“ Get the peak — quick ! ” he cried to Bob. “ Head 


STORMY WEATHER 


197 


her square as you can for the light, Henry. Tom, 
cast off the jib-halyards and grab the downhaul. It’s 
a white squall, I think.” 

Henry Burns seized the wheel, while the two boys 
at the halyards let the mainsail go on the run. There 
was no steerage way on the Viking, as they had been 
drifting; but Henry Burns managed, by throwing 
the wheel over quickly and reversing it moderately, 
to swing the boat’s head a little. 

They were not a moment too soon. Out of a clear, 
cloudless sky, there came suddenly rushing upon them 
a wind with such fury that, sweeping across the bow, 
it laid the yacht over; while there flew aboard, from 
the smother about the bow, a cloud of fine spray that 
nearly blinded them. 

The Viking, its head thrown off by the squall, that 
struck the outer jib, which they had not been able to 
lower, careened alarmingly. Then Henry Burns 
brought her fairly before it, just as a sea began to 
roll aboard. The cockpit was ankle-deep with water; 
but they were scudding now safely out to sea, 
drenched to the skin, as the squall, whipping off the 
tops of the long rollers, filled all the air with a flying 
storm of spray. 

The blast had fallen upon them so unexpectedly, 
and with such incredible quickness, that they scarce 
knew what had happened before they were running 
before it toward the open sea. 

They got the hatches closed now, after Tom had 
dashed below and brought up the oilskins. True, 
they were soaked through and through, but the wind 
had a sharp, cold sting to it, and the oilskins would 


198 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


protect them from that. They got the outer jib down, 
too. Then, when they saw there was no immediate 
danger, as the Viking was acting well, they collected 
their wits and discussed, hurriedly, what they should 
do. 

‘‘ My ! but that was a close call,'' said Bob. “ How 
did you know what was coming. Jack?" 

I didn't, exactly," said Harvey. ‘‘ But I've heard 
the fishermen tell of the white squalls, and I thought 
that was one." 

“ Don’t they say they are worse when they come 
between tides?" asked Henry Burns, quietly. 

“ Seems to me they do," answered Harvey. “ I 
guess we’re in for it. Lucky we are running out to 
sea, instead of in on to a lee shore, though." 

“ They don’t last long, I’ve heard say," said Henry 
Burns. “ We may be able to face it by and by, and 
work back ; though it will be a long beat, by the way 
we are driving." 

They were, indeed, being borne onward with great 
force. Moreover, a quick transformation had taken 
place over the surface of the waters ; for the fury of 
the squall, continuing as it did for some time from 
the west, had calmed the waves, and there was almost 
a smooth sea before them. 

Then, presently, there came another strange alter- 
ation of the wind. The violence of the squall abated, 
and the breeze fell away again. But only for a brief 
length of time. As often happens, with the white 
squall as its forerunner, the wind now changed from 
the southerly of the morning and afternoon, to north- 
easterly; and already, as they proceeded to get sail 


STORMY WEATHER 


199 


again on the Viking, the water darkened away to the 
north and eastward, showing that a new breeze was 
coming from that quarter. They were fully two miles 
out to sea. 

“Looks downright nasty, don’t it. Jack?” said 
Henry Burns. “ Better reef, hadn’t we?” 

“ Yes, and in a hurry, too,” replied Harvey. “ It’s 
coming heavy before long.” 

“ Here, you take the wheel,” said Henry Burns. 
“ I’m quick at tying in reef-points. Come on, Tom. 
Bob will set the forestaysail. How many reefs do 
you want. Jack? ” 

“ Two, I think,” replied Harvey. “ We’ll watch 
her close, though. I’m afraid we shall need a third. 
But we’ll work her back as far as we can before we 
tie another. It’s growing dark, and we must make 
time.” 

It was true, and ominously so. With the altera- 
tion of the wind the sky had darkened, and was be- 
coming overcast. Night would soon be upon them, 
and a stormy one. 

Nor had they beaten back more thah a half-mile, 
in the teeth of the wind, before Harvey luffed and 
hauled the main-sheet in flat. 

“ We’ve got to put in a third reef,” he said, soberly. 
“ We don’t need it quite yet, but we shall very soon, 
and we don’t want to have to reef out here in the 
night.” 

They lowered the sail a little and tied in the reef, 
and the Viking stood on again. But already the sea 
was beginning to roll up heavily from the northeast, 
having a long sweep of water to become agitated in 


200 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 

— the stretch of bay that lay between Loon and 
South Haven Islands. The wind had become a 
storm, a black, heavy nor’easter. In another half- 
hour, rain began to drive upon them. 

But the good yacht Viking stood it well, and they 
had worked up to within about half a mile of the foot 
of Loon Island, though still a mile away from it out 
in the bay, when the wind and sea perceptibly in- 
creased. 

“We can’t make the harbour,” muttered Harvey. 
“ We’ll try for the little harbour at the head of the 
island.” 

The inhabitants of Loon Island called that end the 
head which fronted seaward, and there was a good 
harbour there; that is, not what the fishermen called 
a “ whole ” harbour, protected on all quarters, but 
good as the wind now blew. They headed more to 
the eastward and stood up for that. 

But when, at length, Harvey peered ahead, strain- 
ing his eyes in the gathering darkness for a favourable 
moment to come about, he could see no apparent dif- 
ference in the seas. They were all huge, and they 
beat over the bows of the Viking in one steady, dash- 
ing spray. 

“ She won’t do it,” said Harvey. 

But he eased her and headed off, while the Viking 
rolled dangerously. Then he put the helm hard down. 

“ Ready, about,” he cried. 

But his fears were realized. The seas were too 
heavy, with the sail that they could carry. 

“ Well, we’ll wear her about,” said Harvey. 


STORMY WEATHER 


201 


‘‘ Drop the peak, Henry ; and climb to windward, 
boys, when the boom comes over/’ 

There was peril in this manoeuvre, jibing a boat 
in such a sea and wind; but it was clearly the only 
thing to be done. There was scant sail on, with the 
peak lowered; and Harvey did the trick pluckily and 
sailor-fashion. The sheet was well in and the boat 
almost dead before the wind, before he threw the 
wheel over and let the wind catch the sail on the 
other side. The yacht came around against a flying 
wall of foam and spray, with the boys clinging for 
one moment to the weather rail, and throwing all 
their weight on that side. Then Tom and Henry 
Burns, with united strength, raised the peak of the 
sail, though it filled in. the gale and was almost too 
much for them. 

They stood up again toward harbour. 

‘‘ What do you think. Jack? ” asked Henry Bums, 
finally. 

“ I don’t think — I know ! ” exclaimed Harvey, 
doggedly. ‘‘We can’t make the harbour. We’ve got 
to ride it out somehow. I don’t know but what the 
best thing, after all, is to leave just a scrap of sail 
on, to steady her, and run to sea again. We’ve got 
to decide pretty soon, though.” 

“Wait a minute,” said Henry Burns, quietly. 
“ I’ve got a scheme. If it doesn’t work, we’ll scud 
for our lives again.” 

Making a quick dash into the cabin, he emerged 
with a spare line, a heavy anchor-rope. Then he 
made a second trip and brought forth some smaller 
and shorter pieces. 


202 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 

“ Get the sweeps and the boat-hook/' he cried to 
Tom and Bob, “ and fetch up that water-cask and the 
big wooden fish-box.” 

The boys waited not a moment to inquire the 
reason, though Henry Burns's design was an enigma 
to them. They scrambled forward and then below, 
handed the sweeps aft, and tumbled the box and cask 
out on deck. 

“ Pass some lashings around the cask and the box,” 
commanded Henry Burns. 

The boys lost no time in obeying orders, while 
Henry Burns, himself, quickly took a hitch around 
either end of one of the sweeps, with one of the short 
pieces of rope. He then tied the spare anchor-line 
at the centre of this rope, so that, if the sweep were 
cast overboard, it would be dragged through the 
water horizontally, offering its full resistance. 

To this sweep he then rapidly hitched the other 
one, and then the boat-hook ; and, finally, he hitched 
to this the big box and the cask, by their lashings. 

What in the world are you going to do with that 
stuff, Henry ? ” inquired Bob. 

But Harvey had perceived the other’s purpose. 

“ Good for you, Henry ! ” he exclaimed. “ Where 
did you ever hear about a sea-anchor ? ” 

“ Read about it in a book, once,” responded Henry 
Burns, coolly. ‘‘ What do you say — shall we try 
it? We lose all the stuff if it don’t work. We'll have 
to cut it loose.” 

“ You bet we’ll try it,” said Harvey, hurriedly. 
“ We can’t be in much worse shape than we’re in. 
Get it up aft now, fellows; and Tom, you and 


STORMY WEATHER 


203 


Bob be ready to jump for the halyards and lower the 
sail, when it goes overboard. Then we’ll tie in that 
fourth reef in a jiffy.” 

The other end of the spare anchor-rope, to which 
the stuff was tied, was yet to be made fast forward. 
This was a dangerous task, with the yacht pitching 
heavily, as it was, and the seas flying aboard. So 
Henry Burns passed a line about his waist, which was 
held by Tom and Bob, while he scrambled forward 
in the darkness and accomplished the feat. 

Then they got the mass of stuff which they had 
tied together up to the stern rail, and, at the word, 
heaved it overboard. Harvey kept the yacht away 
from it for a few moments, so that the attraction 
that floating objects have for one another should not 
bring it in alongside; and then, when the line had 
nearly run out, brought the Viking as close into the 
wind as the seas would allow, and held her there. 

The yacht lost headway, and drifted back. Lower- 
ing the mainsail, they hurriedly tied in the fourth 
and last reef. The forestaysail had been taken in, 
long before. 

The line brought up; the clean-built, shapely hull 
of the yacht drifting back faster than the bulky mass 
of stuff at the other end of it; and, as the tension 
came on the line, the bow of the Viking swung 
around, and she was heading fairly up into the seas, 
which broke evenly on either side. 

It’s great ! ” cried Harvey, exultantly. “ You’ve 
got a wise head on you, Henry Burns. Now let’s 
get the scrap of a mainsail up, and she will lie 
steadier.” 


204 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


They hoisted the shred of sail, hauled the boom 
inboard so that it was as nearly on a line with the 
keel as they could bring it, and lashed it securely. 
The sail, thus getting the wind alike on either side, 
served to steady the yacht, and she rolled less. They 
had given the improvised sea-anchor the full length 
of the line, which was a long one, so that the strain 
would be lessened; and the yacht was riding fairly 
well. 

‘‘ She’ll stay like a duck, if the gear only holds,” 
said Henry Burns. 

They waited, watching anxiously, till a half-hour 
had gone by. The yacht was standing it well. The 
great seas lifted her bows high and dropped her heav- 
ily into the deep, black furrows, and the rain and 
spray drove aboard in clouds. But the yacht held 
on. 

“ She’ll stay, I think,” said Henry Burns ; and 
added, yawning wearily, “if she don’t, I hope she 
will let us know right away, for I’ll fall asleep here 
in the cockpit pretty soon. Oh ! but this is hard work. 
I don’t know but what I’ll quit and dig clams for a 
living.” 

“ Turn in and take a wink of sleep,” said Harvey. 
“ She’s riding all right. We’ll call you if anything 
goes wrong.” 

“ Go ahead,” urged Tom and Bob. 

“ I believe I will,” said Henry Burns. “ But it 
won’t be a wink, when I get started. You’ll have 
hard work to wake me. Let me know, though, when 
it’s my turn to take the wheel, and give one of you 
fellows a chance.” 


STORMY WEATHER 


205 


With which, Henry Burns, satisfied in his mind 
that his scheme was working well, went below and 
fell asleep, unmindful of the buffetings of the seas, 
the straining of the Viking's cabin fixtures, and the 
heavy pitching and tossing that shook the yacht from 
stem to stern. 

“ Go ahead, one of you,^’ said Harvey, addressing 
Tom and Bob. Two of us can watch, and if we 
need you well call you.’’ 

But they shook their heads. 

“ Fm dead tired,” admitted Bob ; “ but I couldn’t 
sleep a wink down in that cabin in this storm. We’ll 
stick it out till morning, won’t we, Tom? ” 

“ Fd rather,” replied Tom. 

So would I,” said Harvey. ‘‘ But that’s just like 
Henry Burns. When he takes a notion a thing is 
so, he believes it out-and-out. I honestly believe he 
thinks he is as safe as he would be on an ocean liner.” 

Evidently, Henry Burns was satisfied with the sit- 
uation; and clearly he was a good sleeper. For day- 
break found him still wrapped in slumber. Nor did 
he waken when, the storm abated and the Viking 
safe at anchor in the harbour at the head of Loon 
Island, Jack Harvey and the others tumbled below 
and laid their weary bones beside him. 

But, to make return for their kindness in not arous- 
ing him to help work the boat, he was up before them, 
and had dinner piping hot when they opened their 
eyes at noontime. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 
HE storm that had so suddenly overtaken the 



Viking had raged over all of Samoset Bay. 


The yacht Surprise, running up before the 
afternoon southerly, had been becalmed when near 
the foot of Grand Island, a mile or so out, and had 
felt the first force of the succeeding nor’easter. But 
the squall that so nearly inflicted disaster upon the 
Viking had passed over them. 

They only knew that the wind changed with start- 
ling abruptness, and most capriciously, and that the 
sea began to roll up from the northeast in an unusu- 
ally brief time. 

They were in no danger, apparently, there being 
good anchorage in a harbour formed by the foot of 
Grand Island and a small island adjacent, where they 
could lie snug till the threatening weather had cleared. 

Still, their apparent safety did not prevent their 
receiving a momentary shock of alarm, when they 
were within less than a half-mile of shelter. 

The yacht Surprise was beating ably up to the lee 
of the islands, thrashing about some and throwing 
the spray, as the waves came spitefully chopping and 
tossing under the spur of the wind, when suddenly 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 207 


she struck, bow on. There was a mild shock from 
one end to the other, and an ominous grating sound 
along the bottom. At the same time, the centre- 
board rod, hit by some object, was forced part way 
upward through its box. 

Joe Hinman, in great alarm, threw the yacht up 
into the wind, and glanced anxiously about for 
breakers. But none was in sight. 

“We can’t be in on the rocks,” he gasped. “ Why, 
we’ve been down here with Jack fifty times, if we 
have once. There aren’t any reefs out here.” 

“ I’ll get that chart and take a look,” said Mr. 
Carleton. 

“ Better wait and see if we’ve stove a hole in the 
bottom,” said Joe. 

But the next moment the mystery was explained. 
There was a continued grating sound along bottom, 
and presently a bundle of floating laths drifted out, 
clearing the rudder. Coincident with this, the yacht 
struck again very slightly at the bows. Then, as 
they scanned the water all about, the boys saw that 
they had run into a mass of drifting, half-submerged 
laths, tied into bundles. It was clear that, in some 
blow, or storm, the deck-load of a coaster had been 
carried overboard. 

By their water-soaked appearance, the laths had 
been afloat for many days. The coasters that ran 
from Benton to the smaller towns down the bay 
often carried these for a superficial cargo; and evi- 
dently some one of them, hit by a squall, had run its 
deck well under and the stuff had floated off. 

Joe Hinman sprang forward, seized the boat-hook, 


208 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


and caught one of the bundles by the rope that bound 
it at one end. He drew it alongside and hauled it 
aboard with some difficulty, as it was heavy with 
water. Then he took out his pocket-knife and pro- 
ceeded to cut a sliver from one of the laths. Though 
darkened a little by its exposure, and with trails of 
slimy, green seaweed clinging to the bundle, the laths 
were sound, and the wood bright as ever beneath the 
surface. 

“Hooray!” he cried. “They’re worth several 
dollars a bundle. We’re in luck. We’ll gather them 
all in.” 

They picked up seven or eight of the bundles, stow- 
ing them in on either side of the cockpit. 

“ Makes us look like a cargo-carrier,” said Allan 
Harding. 

“ Yes, and a good cargo, too,” replied Joe Hin- 
man. “ They are worth several dollars each, to sell. 
But we won’t sell ’em. I’ve got an idea. We’ll earn 
as much money as Jack and Henry Burns.” 

“How’s that?” asked Mr. Carleton, curiously ey- 
ing the enthusiastic speaker. 

Joe looked at him, beaming, and in reply exclaimed 
briefly, but triumphantly, “ Lobster-pots ! ” 

“ That’s so,” laughed Mr. Carleton. “ I guess if 
you can make those queer, bird-cage sort of things, 
you can catch all the lobsters you want around here.” 

“ Oh, yes, there’s money in it,” responded Joe, 
“ though the lobsters aren’t so plenty as they used to 
be, the fishermen say. But we couldn’t afford to buy 
any pots to fish with, because it costs so much to 
make them nowadays.” 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 209 


Joyfully, they put the Surprise on its course again 
and gained the shelter of the little harbour. 

Three days later, the crew might have been seen, 
at a point about three miles down the island from 
their camp, busily at work out on shore, with axe 
and saw and hammer and nails. 

“Going to build some lath-pots, eh?” Captain 
Sam had queried, when they consulted him. “ Yes, 
you can do it all right. Just go out and fetch one of 
mine in shore, and go by that.” Then he added, with 
a twinkle in his eye, and a shrewd Yankee smile, 
“You don’t need all them ’ere laths anyway. You 
give me one of them bundles, and I’ll go to work 
and make three of the slickest lath-pots you ever saw, 
for myself; and you can see just how I do it.” 

“ It’s a bargain,” replied Joe, “ if you will let us 
take yopr tools after you get the pots made.” 

“ Reckon I will,” said Captain Sam, smiling. 

It was a good bargain for the boys, at that; for 
Captain Sam was a clever workman at whatever he 
set his hand to do. 

“ One of these ’ere lath-pots,” said the captain next 
day, as he set to work, “ is just as long as the length 
of a lath — four feet. Now we want three strips of 
board, two feet long, to lay down crosswise for the 
bottom pieces, at equal distances apart.” 

He illustrated his remarks by splitting off the 
requisitfe pieces from a chunk of board. Next he 
took an auger and bored a hole in each end of the 
three pieces. 

“ Now,” he said, “ we want three pieces of spruce 
that will bend up like you was going to make a bow 


210 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


to shoot arrows with. Here they be, too, and Tve 
had ’em soaking in water all the morning, so they’ll 
bend better.” 

Whereupon, Captain Sam, having whittled the ends 
of the pieces of spruce down so they would fit snugly 
into the holes he had made, bent them and inserted the 
ends in the holes of the three strips of board. The 
three bows stood up like the tiny beams for a minia- 
ture house, with a rounded roof, instead of a peaked 
one. 

“ Now, we’ll nail on our laths, top and bottom,” 
said Captain Sam, “ and then we’ve got the frame- 
work for a lobster-pot.” 

He nailed them on to the three strips of board at 
the bottom and to the three hoops of spruce at the 
top, making a cage with a flat bottom and a rounded 
roof. Then, in the same way, he made a lath door, 
three laths in width, running the entire length of the 
pot. This was fitted with leather hinges and a 
wooden button to fasten on the inside, so that, when 
closed, the door formed part of the roof of the pot. 

“ That’s the front door where Mr. Lobster always 
comes out,” remarked Captain Sam. “ It’s more 
work, though, making the end doors for him to walk 
in at.” 

These end doors, that the captain referred to, he 
now proceeded to fit into place. Each consisted of a 
funnel-shaped mesh made of knotted cord, the larger 
end fastened snugly all around to the end frame of 
the pot, and leading into a small opening, six inches 
in diameter, made of a wooden hoop. This hoop was 


THE MAN IN THE CABx. 


held in place by Captain Sam’s tying it fast 
strings to the centre of the frame. 

So that the entrance, for a hungry lobster seeking 
the bait inside, would be the entire end of the frame, 
or what Captain Sam called the “street entrance,” 
and narrowing to an opening only six inches in diam- 
eter, where the lobster would enter the cage. 

“ Why don’t they walk out again ? ” inquired 
young Tim, whose experience in fishing had been 
limited mostly to catching flounders and cunners. 

“ Well, they would, I reckon, if they swam like 
fish,” replied Captain Sam. ‘‘ But when they have 
followed down the slope of the mesh, and once 
squeezed in through that small opening, they don’t 
know how to get back again, because their claws 
spread out so. The slope of the mesh helps them to 
get in, and there isn’t any on the inside to help them 
get out. But they will crawl out again sometimes, too, 
if you leave the pots too long and they get all out of 
food.” 

He next proceeded to set up, in the bottom of the 
pot, a small, upright post for a bait-holder. This was 
spear-shaped, with a barb whittled in it, after the 
s/tyle of a fish-hook, so that a fish once impaled 
thereon could not work off with the action of the 
water. 

“ There ! ” exclaimed Captain Sam, when he had 
driven the last nail and tied the last cord. “ Reckon 
it’s done. You boys can be chopping yourselves out 
some buoys, to mark your pots with, while I make 
the other two. You come up to the house to-night, 
and I’ll show you how to knot that twine to make 


aVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 

meshes. So it won’t cost you much to make your 
pots, only for a little twine and some nails.” 

The crew, having thus gained their experience and 
the use of Captain Sam’s tools, carried their stuff 
some three miles down the shore the next day, and 
proceeded to construct their own lath-pots. The in- 
termediate waters had been fished so much by the 
townsfolk that they reckoned on better success farther 
away. Then, too, much of the water lying between 
was taken up with the pots of other fishermen, as 
was shown by their buoys floating here and there. 

They constructed four of the pots the first day. 

“ Let’s quit for the afternoon now, and get these 
set,” suggested Little Tim, along about half-past four 
in the afternoon. 

“ All right, if you will trot up to town and get some 
rope,” said Joe. “ That’s the only thing we forgot. 
We’ll need the boat, though, to catch some bait with. 
You’ll have to foot it.” 

“I’ll go,” replied Tim; “but, say, who’s got any 
money ? ” 

“ Not any of us,” said Joe. “ You’ll have to get 
Rob Dakin to trust us for it. Tell him Jack will pay, 
if we can’t. But we can pay all right, if we have 
any luck. Let’s see, we want a lot of rope. This 
water is ten feet deep at low tide off those ledges, 
and the tide rises eight or nine feet. We’ll need 
about twenty-five or thirty feet of line for each pot. 
That will allow for its snagging, too. Come on, 
fellows, we’ll catch some bait.” 

There was a cove just below, with mud-flats mak- 
ing out into it, but covered now with water. They 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 213 


rowed around to this, in a small boat borrowed from 
Captain Sam. Baiting their hooks with clams, they 
dropped their lines overboard ; but the fish bit slowly. 

“ Guess they aren’t hungry,” said Joe. “ Hand 
me up the spear, George, and the oil. I’ll make a 
^ slick,’ and we’ll see what we can do.” 

The spear was a long, light pole of spruce, with 
a trident at one end — three sharp prongs, the middle 
blade with a clean point, the outer blades barbed. 

They rowed into shallow water, but the bottom 
could not be seen, because of a slight ruffling of the 
surface by the wind. Taking the bottle of fish-oil 
that George Baker handed to him, Joe Hinman poured 
some of it out on to a rag tied to the end of a stick. 
With this, he scattered the oil for some distance 
about the boat. The oil spread out over the surface 
of the water, smoothing its tiny chopping, so that 
through it the bottom could be plainly seen. 

Joe Hinman lay flat at the bow of the boat, hold- 
ing the spear down in the water. Presently he gave 
a jab with it, into the mud, and brought to the sur- 
face a huge sculpin, wriggling, but fast on the prongs. 

‘‘ They aren’t exactly handsome,” he remarked, as 
he dropped the sculpin into the bottom of the boat, 
“ but lobsters aren’t particular about looks.” 

The next jab brought up a big flounder that had 
wriggled its head into the mud, and fancied itself 
safe. The bottom of the boat was soon covered with 
them. 

By the time young Tim was back with the rope, 
they had enough fish to bait the four pots, and more, 
and a mess of flounders for supper. 


214 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


They cut the line into proper lengths, tied one end 
of each length to the end frame of a pot, and fastened 
a wooden buoy, previously boiled in coal-tar to pre- 
vent its becoming water-logged, to the other end. 
Then they took the pots, one by one, and rowed out 
with them to the off-lying ledges. 

They baited each pot, by impaling the fish on the 
wooden spear-head sticking up from the bottom, 
closed the door, turned the wooden button that fast- 
ened it, and dumped it overboard. The pots, 
weighted with stones, sank slowly to the bottom. 

“Great!’' exclaimed Joe, as the last of the four 
went overboard. “ Everything complete, except we 
might have painted a sign, ‘ Walk in,’ on each one. 
What do you think about that, Tim? ” 

“ No, they don’t need it,” said Tim, emphatically. 
“You might want me to go to the store again for the 
paint.” 

They were down bright and early the next morn- 
ing to haul the pots. In three of them, their efforts 
had been rewarded. In the fourth, the bait had been 
untouched. But one of the pots had begun as a 
money-maker in earnest. There were three good- 
sized lobsters in it. The other two had one each. 

They had saved some fish from the catch of the 
night before, so they baited up the pots again, put 
them overboard, and resumed their occupation ashore 
of constructing more pots, delegating young Tim to 
sell their catch among the cottagers, who had nearly 
all arrived for the summer. 

Young Tim was gone not a great while, either. 
He came back, whooping hilariously, and opened a 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 215 


small and rather begrimed fist, to disclose to their 
admiring gaze the sum of a dollar and twenty-five 
cents in silver money. 

“Hooray!” cried Joe Hinman, throwing up his 
cap. “ At this rate, we’ll have the rope paid for, and 
the nails, and something more besides, when Jack and 
Henry Burns get back. We’ll come pretty near tak- 
ing care of ourselves for the rest of the summer.” 

Already the crew, with visions of being self-sup- 
porting, began to have an increased respect for them- 
selves. It was an agreeable sensation. 

They soon found, however, that they were handi- 
capped by the need of a car to store their catch in; 
for, on some days when they had lobsters to sell, the 
cottagers didn’t happen to want any; and again it 
happened that they hadn’t any on hand when they 
were wanted. They began the construction of a car, 
therefore, out of some old packing-boxes, after they 
had finished a few more pots, and were hard at work 
on it when the yacht Viking hove in sight on an 
afternoon. 

The Viking, following its frightful experience in 
the storm, had had a prosperous trip. The boys had 
made some heavy catches, and were returning with 
twenty-two hard-earned dollars. 

There was a joyful celebration down on the shore 
that evening, in honour of the Viking's return, and 
to commemorate their luck as fishermen. 

“ You’ve been buying the stuff for us all along,” 
Joe Hinman had said to Jack Harvey. “ Just come 
down to the camp to-night, and bring Tom and Bob 
and the Warren boys. We’ll get the food this time.’^ 


216 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


And they did, in generous style. There were seven 
of the biggest and fiercest-looking lobsters that they 
had caught in the last two days, broiling over a bed 
of red coals, when the visitors arrived. There were 
two tins of biscuit, baked in the sheet-iron oven. 
There were provisions that the crew had been able 
to buy with their own earnings. There were potatoes 
baked in the ashes, and coffee, steaming hot. 

“ Yes, and what’s more. Jack,” said Joe Hinman, 
as they sat about the fire on the shore, “ there's 
enough stuff left to make about seven more pots. 
You fellows can go ahead and make the rest, if you 
want to; and we’ll take turns tending them and get- 
ting the bait.” 

“ All right,” replied Harvey ; “ and if we get a 
bigger stock in the car than we can dispose of around 
here, we’ll load up the Viking, when we get a strong 
westerly some day, and run down to the big hotel at 
Stoneland. They’ll pay bigger prices than we can 
get at the market.” 

“My! but this lobster is good,” said young Joe 
Warren. “ Henry, pass over that melted butter and 
vinegar.” 

“ Isn’t it a great feast, though? ” exclaimed young 
Tim. “ Beats city grub all hollow.” 

And, indeed, it probably did surpass the sort of 
living Tim got at home. 

“ How’s our friend, Mr. Carleton ? ” asked Bob. 
“ It’s a wonder he hasn’t been around to welcome us 
back.” 

“ Perhaps he is offended with me for not taking 
him aboard on our fishing trip,” said Henry Burns. 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 217 


Why, he hasn’t been to see us for two days,” 
replied Joe. “ By the way, though, last time I met 
him he asked me if I had seen anything of a ruby 
scarf-pin aboard the Surprise. Said he’d lost one.” 

He asked me that, too,” said Arthur Warren. 
“ He was up near the cottage yesterday. Said he 
thought he might have dropped it out aboard the 
Viking.” 

“ I think not,” said Harvey. “ If he had we should 
have found it, for we air that bedding out every clear 
day.” 

“ I don’t recall seeing him wear one,” said Henry 
Burns. 

It is quite possible that Mr. Carleton might have 
been on hand to greet the fishermen on their return, 
had he not been away down the island for the day, 
in a rig he had hired of Captain Sam. The horse, 
though well recommended by Captain Sam, was 
modelled somewhat on the same generous lines as the 
captain’s boat, the Nancy Jane; that is, broad and 
beamy, solid and substantial, but not especially 
speedy; more inclined to thrash up and down, with 
considerable clatter, than to skim along and make 
time. The result on this occasion was, that it was 
about half-past nine o’clock when Mr. Carleton drove 
into Captain Sam’s dooryard, rather weary, and not 
in the best of temper. 

However, good-hearted Mrs. Curtis had supper 
waiting for him, and he lost no time in stretching his 
legs under the table, where, at his ease over a hot cup 
of tea, he was inclined to improve in spirits and rally 
the captain on the slowness of his horse. 


218 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ Well,” said Captain Sam, with imperturbable 
good humour, “ Fm sorry the old nag didn’t fetch 
you up a little quicker. She’s a safe, steady driver, 
though. Reckon the youngsters would have liked 
to see you over to their shore supper. They’re all 
over there. Guess you must have seen their fire down 
on the shore as you drove up. You know the Viking 
got in this afternoon. Had real good luck, too, so 
Henry Burns was saying.” 

Mr. Carleton, leaning back in his chair and leisurely 
passing his cup for another serving of tea, straight- 
ened up suddenly at this remark. But he only said, 
indifferently, “ That so? Fll have to look them up in 
the morning. Fm afraid Fm too tired to walk down 
there to-night.” 

“ Oh, they will be coming up before long now,” 
said Captain Sam. 

“ Why, don’t seem as if you was eating much,” he 
added, as Mr. Carleton rose from the table. 

Mr. Carleton had swallowed his last cup of tea in 
two gulps. 

“ First rate, first rate,” he said. ‘‘ Had a good 
supper. Fll take a little stroll with a cigar, before 
turning in.” 

Mr. Carleton walked leisurely out of the yard ; but, 
when he had passed down the road a few steps, he 
quickened his pace and reached the shore almost run- 
ning. Taking the first boat that came to hand, at 
random, he pushed off and rowed out to the Viking 
with a few quick, powerful strokes. Then, pausing 
for a moment alongside, he listened for the sounds of 


V 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 219 


any one approaching. It was still. Mr. Carleton 
sprang aboard. 

He rushed to the companionway. But the hatch 
was drawn, the cabin doors shut, and the lock set. 
Mr. Carleton uttered an exclamation of anger. Stoop- 
ing over, he felt along under the seats on either side 
of the cockpit. His search was rewarded, for his 
hand rested presently on the blade of a small hatchet, 
which was used by the yachtsmen for all sorts of 
work, from chopping bait to splitting kindling. 

Mr. Carleton sprang to his feet, gave one quick 
glance about, then rushed to the companionway and 
smashed the lock with two smart blows. The next 
moment, he shoved back the hatch, opened the doors, 
and vanished below. 

But, though unseen, Mr. Carleton had not been un- 
heard. 

Only a few moments before this, Tom and Bob and 
Henry Burns and Harvey had gone down to the shore, 
after bidding the crew good night. 

How did you happen to bring the canoe. Jack? ” 
inquired Allan Harding. “ I thought you wasn’t 
going to use that any more.” 

‘‘ Well, I did say so last year,” replied Harvey. ‘‘ I 
thought I had come too near drowning ever to enjoy 
it again. But Tom and Bob were coming down in 
theirs, so Henry and I got mine down from the War- 
ren’s shed.” 

We’ll race you up,” said Tom. 

All right,” said Harvey. “ I think you can beat 
us, though.” 

For a short distance, however, Henry Burns and 


220 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Harvey held their own. Then the skill of the other 
two, and their long practice of paddling together, be- 
gan to tell, and their canoe forged ahead. 

“ It’s no use, Henry,” said Harvey, good-naturedly. 
“ I can’t handle a paddle with Tom Harris. They 
have kept a straight line, but I can’t keep this craft up 
to her course.” 

They slowed down, accordingly, and the other 
canoe left them considerably astern. Then Tom, 
turning and discovering that the others had fallen 
back, spoke to Bob, and they waited for the second 
canoe to come up. 

It was at this very moment that Mr. Carleton, 
hatchet in hand, had smashed the lock. 

‘‘Hark! what was that?” exclaimed Bob White. 
“ Did you hear it? That was out aboard the Viking/' 

“ It sounded like it, sure enough,” said Tom. 
“ Say, fellows,” he cried as the other canoe came near, 
“ did you leave anybody aboard the yacht? We just 
heard somebody out there.” 

“ No, we didn’t,” replied Harvey. “ Come on, let’s 
get up to her quick.” 

If Tom and Bob had beaten them before, they could 
not do it now. Harvey’s paddle went into the water 
with a strength that was well-nigh doubled with ex- 
citement. Moreover, if there had been any possible 
doubt in their minds as to whether there was really 
anybody aboard the Viking, that doubt was dispelled 
by a faint gleam of light showing from out the cabin 
door. 

“How can that be?” exclaimed Harvey. “I 
sprung that lock, myself,” 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 221 


They were alongside, next moment, and aboard, 
with the light lines that held the canoes quickly made 
fast. 

Rushing to the companionway, Harvey cried, an- 
grily : 

“Here! Who’s that down there? What are you 
doing? ” 

The man, springing up, and holding the lantern in 
one hand, disclosed the features of their friend, Mr. 
Carleton. 

“ Hello ! ” he said. ‘‘ Say, this is too bad.” 

“ You bet it's too bad ! ” cried Harvey, interrupting 
him. “ What do you mean by breaking in here? ” 

Mr. Carleton, setting down the lantern, emerged 
from the cabin. 

I really must apologize,” he said, coolly. “ I sim- 
ply couldn’t wait — ” 

“ Yes, but you could wait! ” Harvey broke in, hotly, 
and advancing toward Mr. Carleton. “ It’s no way 
to do, to sneak out here in the night and smash our 
things.” 

See here, young man,” exclaimed Mr. Carleton, 
himself warming a little, though his voice was calm 
and modulated, “ I wouldn’t try to threaten me, if I 
was you, don’t you know. I might get angry, too. 
I — ” 

“ Do it ! ” cried Harvey, excitedly. ‘‘ Get angry. 
I’d just like to have you. Just give us a chance and 
see what happens.” 

“ And what might that be? ” demanded Mr. Carle- 
ton, sharply. 


222 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


'' I’ll tell you,” replied Harvey. We’ll throw you 
overboard. Say, fellows, won’t we ? ” 

“ We certainly will,” answered Henry Burns, 
calmly. 

“ Say the word. Jack,” said Bob. 

The four boys approached Mr. Carleton. He eyed 
them for a moment threateningly. They were cer- 
tainly sturdy opponents. And that his intended threat 
had been without avail, and that ,they were thoroughly 
fearless and ready to act, there could be no doubt. 
Mr. Carleton’s demeanour altered. 

“ Good ! I like your pluck,” he laughed. “ Really, 
I think I’d do the same thing if I were in your place. 
I don’t blame you, and I was sorry I was so hasty, the 
moment I had done it. You see, I’ve lost a very 
valuable ruby scarf-pin somewhere — a keepsake, too, 
don’t you know. I’ve worried myself just about fran- 
tic over it. Now I thought it must have fallen out 
when I was aboard here. So, when I found your 
cabin locked up, I simply couldn’t stand it any 
longer. 

‘‘ But I’ll make any amends in my power,” he 
added. “ I’ll come out to-morrow, and I’ll bring the 
best lock that money will buy over in Bellport. I’ll 
send over for it first thing.” 

“Hadn’t you better go ashore now?” suggested 
Henry Burns. 

“ Why, yes, — good night, — I will,” replied Mr. 
Carleton. “ Good night — I’m sorry it .happened — 
I’ll fix it all right, though.” 

And, stepping into his boat alongside, he put out his 
oars and rowed away. 


THE MAN IN THE CABIN 223 

“ Never mind about that lock,” Henry Burns called 
out. 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton, pausing for a 
moment. 

“ I say, never mind the lock,” repeated Henry 
Burns. “ We’ll attend to that, ourselves. We’d just 
as lieves you would keep away from the Viking after 
this.” 

Mr. Carleton made no reply as he rowed away. 

“ I wonder if we were too rough on him,” said Jack 
Harvey to his companion, a little later, as they were 
undressing, preparatory to turning in for the night. 

“ I don’t see why,” answered Henry Burns. 
“ That’s a pretty high-handed proceeding, to come 
aboard here and smash into our cabin.” 

“ Well, perhaps he was worried about that pin,” 
said Harvey. “ Some persons do lose their heads 
just that way.” 

“ Yes, but he isn’t one of the kind that lose their 
heads,” said Henry Burns. And for my part, I can’t 
recall for the life of me ever seeing him wear any such 
kind of a pin.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


MR CARLETON GOES AWAY 

S QUIRE BRACKETT, having received suffi- 
cient encouragement from Mr. Carleton to war- 
rant action on his part, hitched up his horse one 
afternoon and drove around the road back of the cove, 
turning off at length at the pasture lane that led in to 
Billy Cook’s farmhouse. Billy, barefoot, as usual, was 
busy hoeing in a small garden patch at a little distance 
from the house. 

‘‘ How d’ye do, Billy,” said the squire, sauntering 
out, with his hands tucked under his coat-tails. 

“ Afternoon, squire,” responded Billy ; and added, 
to himself, “ Wonder what he’s up to.” 

“ Quite a stranger, squire,” said he. ‘‘ What brings 
you way ’round here ? ” 

Oh, nothing,” replied Squire Brackett, seating 
himself on the handle of the wheelbarrow that was 
loaded with garden-truck. “ I was driving by and 
thought I’d just drop in and say good day.” 

Humph ! guess not,” thought Billy to himself. He 
knew the squire was not in the habit of making social 
visits. 

“ Well, glad to see you, squire,” he declared, cor- 
dially. “ Nice summer we’re having. Wouldn’t like 
to take home a couple dozen fresh eggs, would you? 


324 


MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 225 


Hens doing right well lately. I can spare you some, 
I reckon, store price.’' 

“ Why, yes, I should,” answered the squire. 
‘‘ Those hens of yours do lay the finest eggs I know 
of.” 

The squire, watching Billy at his work, discoursed 
of this and that; of the weather, the fishing, politics, 
and the prospect of the hay crop. 

“ Wonder what he’s driving at,” was Billy’s inward 
reflection. 

“ Have a smoke, Billy ? ” asked the squire, proffer- 
ing the other one of Rob Dakin’s best and biggest five- 
cent affairs. 

'' Don’t care if I do,” replied Billy, and made a 
further mental observation that something was com- 
ing now, sure. 

By the way, Billy,” remarked the squire, pres- 
ently, “ how do we stand on that mortgage on the 
island down yonder?” 

He said it in an offhand way, just as though he 
didn’t know, even to the fraction of a cent, the amount 
of principal and interest due to that very hour. 

“ Why, I guess you know better than I do, the 
amount of interest up to date,” replied Billy. But it 
ain’t due just yet, eh, squire?” 

“ Why, no, it isn’t,” replied Squire Brackett ; “ and 
I was thinking perhaps we might fix it up between us 
so there wouldn’t be anything due, and so that you 
would have something in your own pocket, besides. 
How would you like that ? ” 

P’r’aps,” said Billy. 

Well, now/’ continued the squire, “ there’s two 


226 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


hundred dollars and interest due. Seems to me, if I 
remember right, you offered to sell the island to me, 
a year ago or so, for twelve hundred dollars. That’s 
a pretty big price, but Fve been thinking it over some 
lately, and I reckon Fll come pretty near that figure, 
if you’d like to make the trade.” 

A year ago, Billy Cook would have jumped at the 
offer. But Billy, boots or no boots, had a vein of 
Yankee shrewdness in him. 

There’s something in the wind,” he thought. 
“ The squire told me I was crazy when I offered it 
to him for that, last year.” 

“ Well, squire, Fll tell you,” he replied. “ Guess I 
did name something like that as a figure, a year ago. 
But I dunno about letting it go for that now, when 
things are looking up so. They tell me some of them 
New York and Boston real estate fellers have been 
down here lately, looking over land. However, Fll 
just talk it over with the old lady, and let you know 
in a day or two.” 

The squire was taken aback. 

‘‘ Well,” said he, rising to go, “ of course I don’t 
leave that offer open. That’s a whole lot of money 
for the land. But Fve got a little money just come 
due, and I thought I might put it into that. Maybe I 
won’t have it to spare by the time you get ready.” 

Well, I reckon the land won’t blow away, squire,” 
chuckled Billy. “ It’s anchored pretty reasonably 
firm, I guess. Fll just go in and get those eggs.” 

It did not take Billy Cook long, following the 
squire’s departure, to come to a conclusion regarding 
the true inwardness of the affair. There was only 


MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 227 


one man, at present, in the village, who would be 
likely to be offering anything like that amount of 
money for the island; and that man was Mr. Carle- 
ton. So Billy lost no time in hunting the gentleman 
up. 

But, when he had found Mr. Carleton and sug- 
gested the matter to him, he was surprised to meet 
with a curt denial. Mr. Carleton, being in a bad 
humour, and having, moreover, as much an inten 
tion of purchasing the land as he had of buying th..- 
bay, replied, very shortly, in the negative. 

“ Hm ! p’r’aps I guessed wrong,” commented Billy. 

But there’s something up. That’s sure. I’ll just 
jump the squire on the price, anyway. I may catch 
him.” 

With which resolve, Billy visited the squire the fol- 
lowing day, offered him the land at an advance of 
three hundred dollars, and, much to his own surprise, 
got it. 

‘‘ It’s a fearful price, fifteen hundred dollars for 
that land,” exclaimed the squire, after he had tried 
in vain to beat down the figure. “ I’ll never get a 
cent out of it; but I’m just fool enough to do it.” 

“ P’r’aps you be,” thought Billy. 

“ I don’t like to part with that island, squire,” he 
said. “If you want it, you’d better draw up the 
papers, right away to-day, and we’ll go over to May- 
ville and have everything filed straight and regular. 
Else I might get sorry and back out.” 

“ All right,” said Squire Brackett. 

“ We can’t do it any too soon to suit me,” he 
thought. 


228 rival campers AFLOAT 


So Uncle Billy and Squire Brackett went to May- 
ville, and the squire generously paid the fares. 

“ Guess I can stand it, at a thousand dollars profit,” 
said the squire to himself. 

Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, arising on the 
morning following their adventure with Mr. Carle- 
ton, proceeded at once to restore the yacht to its 
former condition, by purchasing at Rob Dakin’s a 
strong lock for the cabin. It was heavier and clumsier 
than the one that had been broken, but, as Henry 
Burns remarked, it was good enough for fishermen. 

Then they sailed down alongshore to where the 
crew had made their lobster-pots, went to work, and, 
in a few days, completed the making of the remainder 
to the extent of their material. This proved easier 
fishing, too, in a way, than the outside cod and hake 
fishing, and involved, of course, no danger, as the 
pots were set near shore. And, as they had got their 
lath-pots practically without expense, it was likely to 
prove even more profitable, while it lasted. 

The car that they had made, to keep the lobsters 
alive in, was a big, square boxlike affair, with the 
slats nailed on just far enough apart so the lobsters 
could not escape, but affording a flow of sea-water 
through the car almost as free as the sea itself. The 
two trap-doors in the roof of the car, through which 
the lobsters were put in and taken out, were fastened 
with heavy padlocks. The car was moored in a shel- 
tered nook alongshore, a little distance above the 
area of water covered by the lath-pots. 

They learned how to pack the live lobsters for 
shipping, too, and sent lots, now and then, by steamer, 


MR. CARLETON' GOES AWAY 229 


over to the Bellport and Mayville markets, and to 
Stoneland. They learned how to stow them into a 
flour-barrel with their tails curled snugly under, and 
their backs uppermost, so they could not move; and 
that a barrel would hold just fifty-five, by actual 
count, stowed in that way, allowing for ice at the 
top, and all covered securely with a piece of coarse 
sacking. They received as much as twelve and fifteen 
cents a pound for these, shipped so that they would 
arrive alive at market, and began to feel quite pros- 
perous. 

They listened to many a learned discussion, in Rob 
Dakin’s cracker and sugar-barrel forum, over the 
habits of the lobster; how it was generally conceded 
by the local fisherman that the lobster took the bait 
better at night; but that other wise men among the 
catchers argued stoutly that flood-tide, whether it 
served by night or day, was the more favourable 
time; and how both the ebb and flow of the tides 
doubtless carried the lobsters back and forth across 
the feeding-grounds. 

They heard discussed, too, the relative merits of 
flounder and sculpin and cod’s heads as the more 
attractive baits, and whether these, fresh or old, were 
the more enticing. 

Billy Cook had a theory that a lobster has as keen 
a scent as a hound, and that a fish of somewhat 
gamy odour was the better lure; while Long Dave 
Benson “ allowed ” that a lobster has an eye like a 
fish-hawk, and that what was needed was a fish with 
a gleam of white showing at a distance, like the 
flounder. 


230 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


In all, there was a greater and more varied amount 
of natural philosophy and fish-lore dispensed, free, 
within the walls of Rob Dakin’s grocery store, than 
one might hear in a lifetime at any university. 

Be it recorded, however, that the suggestion made 
by young Joe Warren, at one of these discussions, 
that the lobster regarded one of these lath-pots as 
some sort of a summer-house, thoughtfully provided 
for homeless wanderers of the sea, was received with 
merited and unanimous conteippt. 

They saw little of Mr. Carleton, these days. He 
had, at first, attempted to retain the favour of Har- 
vey’s crew, but they would have nought to do with 
him, following the example of their recognized leader. 
So it came about that Mr. Carleton, left much to 
himself, and not caring, seemingly, to cultivate the 
friendship of the elder persons among the summer 
arrivals, spent the greater part of his time in driving 
about the island, and in hiring Captain Sam’s sail- 
boat, for short cruises about the bay. 

He took Harry Brackett out with him occasionally, 
and, being a man of shrewd observation, startled that 
young man one day not a little, by bursting suddenly 
into laughter when the yacht Viking sailed past, at 
a little distance. 

I see your two beauty-spots on the sail,” he said, 
laughing heartily, and pointing to the places where 
the sail had been neatly mended. That was a clever 
trick. Ha ! ha ! How did you happen to think of 
that little dodge of tying up the reef-points? Guess 
you know more about a sailboat than some folks 
seem to think, eh ? ” 


MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 231 


Harry Brackett, taken by surprise, made a feeble 
attempt at denial, but Mr. Carleton wouldn’t listen 
to it. He had an assertive, positive way, that Harry 
Brackett could not withstand. So the boy ended by 
admitting the act, vastly relieved to find that a man 
like Mr. Carleton, of whom his father spoke so highly, 
regarded it as a really good joke. 

“ Makes me feel like a boy again, for all the world,” 
chuckled Mr. Carleton. “ Count me in on the next 
one. Fm a good deal of a boy, myself.” 

Also, did the astute Mr. Carleton feign to regard 
as a joke an incident that occurred some days later, 
of a more serious nature, and which he discovered 
quite by chance. 

It had come on foggy, with a lazy wind from the 
southeast, and for several days the island and the 
bay had been obscured by thick banks of fog, so that 
one could not see a boat’s length ahead. The steamers 
came in cautiously, sounding their whistles, to note, 
if they were near land, how quick the echo, or an an- 
swering fog-bell, came back to them. 

There was no sailing, and the boys remained ashore, 
mostly up at the comfortable Warren cottage, or 
within the tents. They tended the lobster-pots when 
the fog did not roll in too thick; but for two entire 
days it was too heavy for them to find the buoys, and 
they did no fishing. 

It happened on one of these days that, finding it 
dull in the town, Mr. Carleton invested in a suit of 
oilskins and rowed down along the shore, where he 
dropped a line off the ledges and fished for cunners. 


232 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


He was a smart fisherman, and caught a good mess 
in a short running of the flood-tide. 

“ ril get the captain to clean them, and have Mrs. 
Curtis make me one of those fine chowders for sup- 
per,” he said, as he pushed the basket of fish under 
the seat, put the oars into the oar-locks and proceeded 
to row in. 

But Mr. Carleton miscalculated a little, in the fog, 
and rowed some distance down the shore before he 
discovered his mistake.. He was turning to row back, 
when the sound of some one else rowing attracted his 
attention. He was close to shore, out of sight. 

Presently the boat came dimly into view through 
the fog, and Mr. Carleton made out the occupant to 
be Harry Brackett. He was about to hail him, when 
the rower turned his boat inshore and stepped out. 
Then Mr. Carleton observed that the object at which 
Harry Brackett had arrived was the lobster-car owned 
by the campers. Mr. Carleton quietly stepped out of 
his own boat, and walked up into the bushes. 

Harry Brackett reached for the line with which the 
car was moored, and drew the car in to shore. Then, 
taking from his pocket a ring on which several keys 
dangled, he proceeded to try them, one by one, in the 
padlock of one of the trap-doors. A certain key 
finally answered his purpose, and the next moment 
Mr. Carleton saw the door lifted. Harry Brackett, 
using a short-handled net, lifted out half a dozen lob- 
sters, dropped them into his boat, and, relocking the 
trap-door, got into his boat, and started to row 
away. 

But he nearly fell over in his seat with fright, when 


MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 233 


the sound of laughter close on shore greeted him. 
The next moment, Mr. Carleton stepped into view. 

Ha ! ha ! ” laughed Mr. Carleton. “ Oh, you’re 
a sly dog. I see what you’re up to. Little bake going 
on among some of you island chaps, eh? No reason 
why our friends should not contribute something to 
the fun. Oh, I’ve been a boy, myself. Look out they 
don’t catch you, though. Heavy fine, you know, for 
that sort of thing.” 

Harry Brackett, terrified, rowed ashore to where 
Mr. Carleton was standing. He must explain. He 
had no idea of stealing the lobsters — which was 
met with derisive laughter from Mr. Carleton, and 
the assurance that he was a bold young chap. 

From which effort at dissimulation, Harry Brackett 
came, at length, to beg and implore Mr. Carleton 
that he would say nothing about it. 

Now, if Mr. Carleton had had any notion that 
young Harry Brackett might at some time be useful 
to him, he certainly went about the manner of gaining 
an ascendency over him most admirably. For didn’t 
Mr. Carleton promise that he would say nothing about 
the affair? And didn’t he feign to treat it as a huge 
joke? He certainly did. But how cunningly, also, in 
all his making light of it, did he convey to young 
Harry Brackett’s mind the fact that he knew it was a 
criminal thing; and that it would meet with heavy 
punishment, if discovered. And how cunningly did 
he play upon first the one, and then the other idea; 
the idea of a practical joke, and the idea of the pen- 
alty for it, if it should be known; until young Harry 
Brackett would gladly have promised to do anything 


234 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


in all the world that Mr. Carleton might ask, to buy 
his silence. 

'‘Then you won’t let on about it?” urged Harry 
Brackett, apprehensively, for the tenth time or more, 
as he started to row away. 

" Never a word from me,” said Mr. Carleton. 
“ Ho, you rascal — I’ve been a youngster, too. But 
you’re taking pretty big chances of getting into 
trouble. Look out for yourself. Ho ! ho ! ” 

" I’ll never take another chance like it,” whined 
Harry Brackett. 

For the remainder of Mr. Carleton’s stay on the 
island, there was one more youth that avoided him 
now, though for a different reason than that of the 
others. This was young Harry Brackett. He was 
ashamed to look Mr. Carleton in the face. Perhaps, 
on the other hand, it was rather Mr. Carleton who 
avoided meeting the young yachtsman. And perhaps 
he, too, was ashamed of what he had done. 

However, this newly developed modesty on Harry 
Brackett’s part did not prevent Mr. Carleton, driving 
along the road an afternoon or two later, from over- 
taking him and insisting that he get in and ride. 

“ Glad to see you,” said Mr. Carleton, as affably 
as he knew how. " Haven’t seen you around much 
for a day or two. Lobsters didn’t make you chaps 
sick, did they ? Ha ! ha ! ” 

Harry Brackett flushed, and felt decidedly uncom- 
fortable. 

But he tried to laugh it off, and said he was feeling 
first rate. 

“ Well,” said Mr. Carleton, “ you’re all right. I 


MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 235 


like to see a boy of spirit. I’m glad to have met you. 
I’m going to leave, to-morrow, by the way.” 

Harry Brackett wouldn’t, for the world, have said 
how glad he was to hear of it. On the contrary, he 
said he was sorry; and added, that his father, the 
squire, would be sorry, too. 

‘‘ I’ll be sorry to lose the squire’s company,” re- 
plied Mr. Carleton. “ But don’t say anything to him 
about my going. That’s a peculiarity of mine ; I don’t 
like to say good-bye to people. Sort of distresses me, 
don’t you know. That is, don’t say anything about 
it until after I am gone. Like as not, I shall not speak 
of it to anybody but you. Captain Sam, even, won’t 
know of it until I settle up with him, to-morrow.” 

“ How about Harvey and Henry Burns and that 
crowd ? ” inquired Harry Brackett. 

“ Why, the fact is,” replied Mr. Carleton, ‘‘ we 
have had a little falling out. I’m sorry about it, too. 
They’re not such bad young chaps — except that 
Bums boy. He’s too notional — don’t you think 
so?” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Harry Brackett, decidedly. 

“ Well, I broke a lock on their cabin door,” con- 
tinued Mr. Carleton, “ because I was desperately wor- 
ried about the loss of a pin that was worth most as 
much as their boat — to say nothing of a cheap lock. 
Of course I was going to get them another, and a 
better one. They wouldn’t have made much fuss, 
either, I think, if it hadn’t been for young Burns. 
Harvey was hot-headed about it, but he would have 
got over it. The other young chap, he was cool as 


236 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


ice; but I could see he was the one I couldn't make 
friends with again, so I gave it up.” 

Humph ! ” exclaimed Harry Brackett — ‘‘ and 
after all you have done for them, too.” 

“That’s it,” said Mr. Carleton; “though I don’t 
care anything about that. I was glad to give them 
a good time.” 

“ Say,” he exclaimed, suddenly, as though an idea 
had just come to his mind, “ I tell you what you do. 
I’m going over to Bellport for a few days, and then 
down the coast somewhere. But I’ll leave word at 
Bellport for my letters to be forwarded. I want you 
to write to me once a week or so. Let me know 
where the Viking is, and what the boys are doing, 
and what you are doing. If we get a chance, you and 
I will play a little joke on them, just to show them 
they’re not so smart — might just tie in a few more 
reef-points, or something of that sort, eh? ” 

Mr. Carleton laughed as he spoke. 

“ I’ll do it,” said Harry Brackett. “ Are you in 
earnest, though?” 

“ Yes, sir, honour bright,” replied Mr. Carleton. 
“You keep me informed, and we’ll have a joke on 
them yet.” 

“ Well, good-bye,” said Harry Brackett, getting 
down from the wagon and shaking hands with Mr. 
Carleton. 

“ Good-bye,” said the other. “ And if any one in- 
quires about me, after I am gone, just tell them you 
heard me say I was going back to Boston.” 

“ Harry,” said Squire Brackett, the second evening 
following this, “ I want you to go over to Captain 



“ ‘ JUST TELL THEM 


THAT YOU HEARD ME 
BACK TO BOSTON.’ ” 


SAY I was 


GOING 







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MR. CARLETON GOES AWAY 237 


Sam’s and take this note to Mr. Carleton. It’s about 
a little business transaction, so be careful and don’t 
lose it. You’re pretty careless sometimes.” 

‘‘ Why, he’s gone away,” answered Harry Brackett. 
‘‘No use taking that over to Captain Sam’s.” 

“ Gone away ! ” shouted the squire, seizing his son 
by the collar. “ Gone away! When did he go? ” 

“ Captain Sam says he went yesterday.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” cried 
Squire Brackett, shaking his son vigorously. 

“Why, how did I know anything about it?” 
whined Harry Brackett. “ How did I know you 
wanted to see him before he went? You’re always 
blaming me for things. I’m not to blame.” 

On second thought, Squire Brackett came to the 
same conclusion. Still, it being his habit of mind 
invariably to blame somebody else for his own mis- 
fortunes., he had to vent his irritation on his son. 

“ Well, clear out of here! ” he cried. “ You never 
know anything except at the wrong time.” 

Harry Brackett disappeared. 

One would have thought that the squire had lost 
his dearest friend on earth, in the departure of Mr. 
Carleton, judging by the deep and profound melan- 
choly that fell upon him, for a fortnight. Or, on 
the other hand, one might have thought that Mr. 
Carleton was his bitterest foe, if any one had seen 
him rage and fume in secret, whenever he thought of 
Mr. Carleton or pronounced his name. Mrs. Brackett 
overheard him mutter, on one or two occasions, 
“ Fifteen hundred dollars tied up in an island ! ” But, 
when she inquired what he meant, she received a 


238 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


reply that was both incommunicative and not wholly 
courteous. 

As for Billy Cook, the squire wouldn’t speak to 
him, when next they met — nor for half the summer. 

“ Never mind,” said Uncle Billy to himself, ‘‘ I’ll 
buy a new pair of Sunday boots, and I’ll pay as much 
as two dollars and a half for ’em.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 

XX THERE are you fellows going?” asked 
Y ^ George Warren, from a comfortable seat 
on the Warren veranda, of Henry Burns 
and Jack Harvey, as they were passing the cottage 
of an afternoon. The two yachtsmen were carrying, 
between them, a big basket of clams, which they had 
just dug on the flats at the head of the cove. 

Going fishing, down the shore a way,” replied 
Henry Burns. WeVe just got the bait. We have 
to keep our lobsters fat and contented, you know, so 
they’ll look pleasant when they get to market.” 

** Don’t you think you humour them too much ? ” 
asked George Warren, quizzically. “ You’ll spoil 
them with overfeeding, the way Colonel Witham did 
his boarders.” 

“ No, we feed them the same way he did,” answered 
Henry Bums; “give them lots of fish, because they 
are cheap. And we hope they’ll get tired of fish, by 
and by, the way Witham’s boarders used to, and not 
eat so much. Then we’ll take it easy. Come on, 
though, and help us catch some. We’ve got bait 
enough for the whole crowd.” 

“ All right,” responded George. “You go ahead, 
and we’ll take our boat and come out and join you.” 
239 


240 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The three Warren boys, launching their boat in tlie 
cove, rowed down to the point and joined the party, 
consisting of Henry Burns and Harvey and Tom and 
Bob, who were just putting off in the Viking's tender. 
When they had rowed down the shore a way, they 
were met by Harvey’s crew, and all proceeded in the 
three boats a short distance farther, a half-mile or 
more below the crew’s camp. They baited up their 
hooks and threw out. 

“ This looks nice and social,” said George Warren, 
surveying the three boats, with their eleven occupants. 
‘‘ It’s the first time we have all been out here to- 
gether this year. We ought to make this a prize 
contest.” 

“ Good! ” exclaimed Harvey. “ What do you say 
to one of those new dollar yachting-caps at the store, 
for the one that catches the most fish? We’ll each 
put in nine cents to pay for it. Got any money, fel- 
lows ? ” 

“ Lots of it,” replied young Tim. We’re in for 
it.” • 

‘‘ They’re regular millionaires, nowadays, since 
they made those lobster-pots,” remarked Henry 
Burns. 

“ There’ll be one cent left over,” said young Joe 
Warren. ‘‘What do we do with that?” 

“ That goes with the hat,” said Henry Bums. 
“ You can buy peanuts with it, if you win, Joe.” 

“ Well, I’ve got the first fish, anyway,” cried young 
Joe, who had felt a tremendous yank on his line. 

Up came a big flounder, wliich was skittering about, 
the next moment, in the bottom of the boat. 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 241 


“ I’ve got a bigger one,” cried Joe Hinman, ex- 
citedly; but, when he began to haul in, nothing came 
of it. 

Little Tim Reardon, who had given a sly tug at 
Joe’s line when the other wasn’t looking, snickered. 

“ That would have beaten Joe’s, if you’d got him,” 
he said, grinning. 

“I’ll beat you, if you try that trick again,” ex- 
claimed Joe Hinman, eying Tim sharply. 

The fish began coming in lively, from little harbour 
pollock to sculpins with monster heads and attenuated 
bodies, and cunners, that stole the bait almost as fast 
as the boys could throw overboard. 

“ Everything counts,” said Henry Burns, as he 
drew in a huge skate; and added, as he took the 
hook out of the fish’s capacious mouth, “ Wonder how 
Old Witham would have liked him for a boarder.” 

“ Hello ! ” exclaimed Harvey, “ here comes an- 
other boat; and it looks like Squire Brackett in the 
stem.” 

“ Yes, and it’s young Harry, rowing,” said Arthur 
Warren. “ First time I’ve seen him working, this 
summer.” 

The squire and his son were, indeed, coming out 
to the fishing-grounds. 

“ Something new for the squire to be doing his 
own fishing,” remarked Arthur Warren. “ He must 
be saving money.” 

“ Well, we ought to salute him, anyway,” said 
Henry Bums. “ Say, fellows, one, two, three, all to- 
gether, ‘ How d’ye do, squire,’ just as he comes 
abreast.” 


242 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The chorus that greeted Squire Brackett made him 
jump up in his seat. 

He didn’t reply to the salutation, but glared at the 
boys, angrily. 

‘‘ Always up to their monkey-shines ! ” he mut- 
tered. “ I’ll teach ’em to have respect for me, some 
day yet.” 

Better stop and drop in a line here, squire,” said 
George Warren, good-naturedly. “ We’ve got them 
tolled around, with so many baits out.” 

And he demonstrated his remark by pulling out a 
big cunner. 

“ Bah ! ” ejaculated the squire. “ I should think 
you would scare all the fish between here and the 
cape, with your confounded racket.” 

The squire directed his son, and the latter rowed 
past the other boats and tied up, at length, at a spar 
buoy, with red and black horizontal stripes, which 
marked a ledge in the middle of a channel. 

“ We’ll get a mess of cunners about these rocks,” 
the squire remarked, as he and Harry made ready. 

Luck in fishing, always capricious, seemed to have 
deserted the boat in which were Harvey’s crew, al- 
though the boys in the other two boats continued to 
pull in the fish at intervals. 

Let’s give it up,” said Joe Hinman, at length, 
winding in his line and removing a clam-head. 
“ What do you say to going down now and hauling 
the lobster-pots? We’ll take down our fish, and some 
from the other boat, to bait them up with.” 

“ Guess we might as well,” said George Baker, re- 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 243 

luctantly. “We can’t catch up with the other fellows 
now.” 

So they drew up alongside of the Viking's tender, 
and the boys threw their catch into the crew’s boat. 

“ Twenty - six, twenty - seven,” counted Henry 
Burns, as the last one went over. “ Keep that score 
in mind, George, when we come to reckon up. Tom’s 
ahead in our boat. He’s caught ten of them. But we 
want to see which boat wins, too.” 

The crew rowed away, down alongshore. 

An hour and a half later, the boys in both boats 
stopped fishing, to reckon up their catch. 

“ Tom’s got nineteen fish,” called out Henry Burns. 

“ It’s a tie,” cried young Joe, excitedly. “ I’ve got 
just nineteen.” 

“ Then we’ll give you each five minutes more,” 
said Harvey, pulling out a silver watch. “ Say when 
you’re ready to throw overboard, fellows.” 

Tom and young Joe baited up for the final effort, 
and the lines went out together. 

They waited expectantly. Two, three, four min- 
utes went by, without a bite. 

“ Guess they’ll need five minutes more,” said 
Henry Burns. 

But the words were hardly uttered before young 
Joe gave a whoop, and began hauling in vigorously. 

“ I’ve won ! ” he shouted. 

“ No, you haven’t,” cried Tom, pulling in rapidly, 
hand over hand. 

“ You’re just within the time-limit,” said Harvey, 
as Tom’s fish came in over the gunwale. “ It’s another 
tie; you’ll have to try it over again.” 


244 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


All right,” said young Joe. “ I got mine first, 
though — No, hold on here. Hooray! Fve won, 
after all.” 

Young Joe, who had been in the act of disengaging 
his bait from the mouth of a sculpin, stopped sud- 
denly, and made a grimace of delight. 

“ Pull up the anchor, George,” he said to his eld- 
est brother. “ Let’s row alongside the other boat, 
and I’ll prove that I win.” 

George Warren looked at Joe’s catch, and laughed. 

“ I guess you’re right,” he said. 

They rowed up to the other boat. 

“What did you do — catch two at once, Joe?” 
asked Tom, as Joe produced his catch. 

“That’s what!” exclaimed young Joe. 

“ I don’t see but one,” said Tom. 

“ Well, look here,” said young Joe. He reached 
his fingers cautiously down the throat of the big scul- 
pin, holding the jaws open with a piece of stick. 
Then, triumphantly, he dragged forth by the tail a 
smaller fish, that had in fact been swallowed the mo- 
ment before Joe had caught the larger one. 

“ The cannibal! ” exclaimed Tom Harris. “ That’s 
the meanest trick I ever had played on me by a fish.” 
But he added, smiling, “ I give up, Joe. You’ve won. 
I wouldn’t catch a fish as mean as that sculpin. And 
to think that he’d gobble a clam before he had a fish 
half-swallowed! He’s a regular Squire Brackett.” 

Mention of that gentleman called attention to the 
fact that the squire and his son had ceased fishing 
also, and were casting off from the buoy, preparatory 
to rowing in. At the same moment the boys noticed 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 245 


that the crew’s boat was coming in sight from down 
below, and that the crew were waving for them to 
wait. 

They pulled up anchor, and rowed a little way in 
the direction of the other boat. 

Squire Brackett’s curiosity over the success of the 
crew was perhaps aroused, for he, too, waited a few 
moments. Then, when the crew had come up, Harry 
Brackett rowed near enough for the squire to look 
into the boat, with the others. 

The crew had certainly made a successful haul. 
There were a score of fine lobsters in the bottom of 
their boat — a score of good-sized ones, and one 
other. That one other caught the squire’s watchful 
eye. 

“ Want to sell a couple of them? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, certainly,” replied Joe Hinman. 

“ Well, give me that one,” said Squire Brackett, 
pointing to one of large size, “ and that one, there,” 
pointing to the small one. 

Joe handed them over. 

‘‘ Those will cost you thirty-five cents, squire,” he 
said. 

‘‘ That small one will cost you more than that,” 
chuckled the squire to himself, as he paid the money. 

Then the squire, reaching a hand into his pocket 
and producing a folding rule, opened it and laid it 
carefully along the length of the lobster. 

‘‘ Ha ! ” he exclaimed, turning in triumph to the 
boys, ‘‘ that lobster will cost you just twenty dollars. 
That’s a short lobster — a half-inch shorter than the 
law allows. You know the fine for it.” 


246 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“Why, you don’t mean that, do you, squire?” 
asked Joe Hinman, dismayed at seeing the profits of 
their fishing thus suddenly threatening to vanish. 
“ We haven’t shipped a single short lobster all this 
summer. But we don’t stop to measure them down 
here. We wait till we get up to the car. We have 
a measuring-stick there, and if a lobster is under the 
law we set him free, near the ledges off the camp. 
We throw out some old fish around those ledges, to 
see if we can’t keep them around there, and be able 
to catch ’em later — perhaps another year, when 
they’ve got their growth.” 

“No, you don’t!” exclaimed the squire. “Can’t 
fool me that way. There’s the evidence ! ” And he 
held up the incriminating lobster, triumphantly. 

As matter of fact, the squire well knew that the 
fishermen around Grand Island, when they wanted 
a lobster for a dinner, took the first one that came to 
hand, long or short. They figured out that the law 
was devised to prevent the indiscriminate and whole- 
sale shipping of lobsters before they had attained a 
fair growth; and the local custom about the island 
was to catch and eat a lobster, long or short, when- 
ever anybody wanted one. Nor was the squire an 
exception to this custom. But the law answered his 
purpose now. 

He and his son rowed up alongshore, the latter 
grinning derisively back at the chagrined crew. 

“ Hello, what luck ? ” bawled a voice, as the crew 
ruefully pulled in to land and proceeded to stow their 
catch in the car. 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 247 


‘‘ Mighty bad luck, Captain Sam,” replied Joe Hin- 
man, dolefully, to the figure on shore. 

Little Tim, the first to jump from the bow of the 
boat, narrated their adventure with the squire. Cap- 
tain Sam snorted. 

‘‘ Ho, the shrewd old fox ! ” he exclaimed. “ Why, 
he’s eaten enough short lobsters in the last two years 
to cost him a thousand dollars. Only trouble is, he’s 
eaten the proof. We can’t catch him on those. Wait 
till I see him, though. I’ll give him a piece of my 
mind about raking up laws that way.” 

Perhaps the utterance about law, on Captain Sam’s 
part, refreshed his memory, however; for, the next 
moment, he burst into a roar of laughter. 

“Oh, yes, it’s funny, I suppose,” said Little Tim; 
“ but you don’t have to pay the fine.” 

Captain Sam roared again. 

“ No, and you won’t, either, I reckon,” he laughed. 
“ See here.” 

He whispered something in Little Tim’s ear. 

“ Don’t let on that I told you, though,” he said. 
“ The squire owes me a grudge already. Ha ! ha ! 
I was watching all of you out there fishing. Ho ! the 
old fox!” 

Captain Sam walked away, chuckling to himself. 

“ He will rake up laws just to pay a spite with, 
eh ? ” he muttered. 

Little Tim was off like a shot. 

Twenty minutes later, a barefoot figure, panting 
and perspiring, accosted Squire Brackett, as the latter, 
bearing his precious evidence in the shape of the 
offending lobster, walked up the village street. 


248 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ We’ll just show this lobster to the fish-warden, 
my son,” said the squire. “ Then we’ll go home to 
supper.” 

“ Squire Brackett, you aren’t really going to com- 
plain on us, are you?” piped Little Tim, out of 
breath. We didn’t mean to break the law, you 
know.” 

‘‘ Get out of here, you little ragamuffin ! ” ex- 
claimed the squire, reddening and waving Tim out 
of his path. “ Somebody’s got to teach you young- 
sters a lesson — playing your pranks ’round here, day 
and night. Somebody’s got to uphold the law. 
Sooner you boys begin to have some respect for it, the 
better for honest folks on the island.” 

“ Well, if a chap breaks the law without thinking, 
do you want him to ‘catch it’ just the same?” 
queried young Tim. “ P’r’aps you have eaten short 
lobsters, yourself.” 

“ Certainly, any person that breaks the law ought 
to be punished — every time,” replied the squire. 
“ That’ll teach ’em a lesson. I’ll show you boys that 
when you come down here you’ve got to behave, or 
suffer for it.” 

“ Because,” continued young Tim, “ you were 
breaking the law, yourself, this afternoon — you and 
Harry.” 

Little Tim dodged back out of reach, in a hurry; 
for the squire made a dart at him, turning purple with 
anger. 

“ What do you mean, you young scamp ! ” cried 
the squire. “Just let me get you by the ear once. 
Accusing me of breaking the law ! ” 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 249 


Little Tim’s nimble bare feet carried him out of 
the way of the squire’s arm. From a safe distance, 
he continued: 

“ Yes, you and Harry were breaking the law, out 
there in the boat. You were tied up to one of the 
spar-buoys. They belong to the gov’ment. Fve 
heard a fisherman say so; and it’s fifty dollars fine 
for any one to moor a boat to one of ’em. Didn’t you 
know that, squire?” 

Little Tim asked this question with a provoking 
innocence that nearly threw the squire into an apo- 
plectic fit. 

“ Pooh ! ” he exclaimed. “ Pooh ! ” He turned 
a shade deeper purple, feigned to bluster for a mo- 
ment, and then, realizing, with full and overwhelm- 
ing consciousness, that what Little Tim had said was 
true, subsided, muttering to himself. 

The squire stood irresolutely in the street, holding 
the lobster in one hand, and glaring in a confused 
sort of way at Little Tim, who was now grinning 
provokingly. 

“ Here, you young scamp,” he said at length, 
“ come here.” 

Little Tim approached, discreetly. 

“ Now,” said the squire, hemming and hawing, 
and evidently somewhat embarrassed, on second 
thought, I — I’m going to let you youngsters off this 
time. I guess you didn’t intend to do anything 
wrong, did you ? ” 

‘‘ No, sir,” replied Little Tim, looking very sober 
and serious, but chuckling inwardly. 

“ Well,” said the squire, “ I think I won’t complain 


250 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


of you this time. We’ll just drop the whole affair. 
Of course a mere nominal fine of fifty dollars wouldn’t 
be anything to me ; but I reckon twenty dollars would 
be kind of a pinch for you boys, and you have been 
working pretty industriously. You go along now — 
but look out, and don’t do anything of the sort again.” 

Little Tim bolted for the camp. 

The squire stood for a moment, scowling after the 
vanishing figure, and glancing out of the corner of 
an eye at his son, Harry, to see if that young man 
was treating the incident in its proper light — to 
wit, with respect to his father. Harry Brackett was 
discreetly serious. 

Harry,” said the squire, finally, handing over the 
piece of incriminating evidence, “ you take those 
lobsters up to the house and tell your mother to boil 
them for supper.” 

“The short one, too? ’’asked Harry Brackett. 

“ Yes, confound you! ” roared the squire. “ Take 
them both along. Do you think I buy lobsters to 
throw away? Clear out! And, look here, if I hear 
of your saying anything about this affair to any one, 
you’ll catch it.” 

Harry Brackett departed homeward, while the 
squire, muttering maledictions on Harvey, his crew, 
and Henry Burns, entered the village store. 

“ Those boys have altogether too much informa- 
tion,” he said. “ I’d like to know if that young Henry 
Burns put him up to that.” 

As for Henry Burns, his mind had been given over 
for some time to the consideration of a different mat- 
ter. He, himself, couldn’t have told exactly just 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 251 


when and where he had formed a certain impression ; 
but, once the idea had impressed him, he had turned 
it over and over, looking at it from all sides, and try- 
ing to recall any incident that would shed light on it. 

He had a habit of thinking of things in this way, 
without saying anything to anybody about them until 
he had made up his mind. And what he had been 
considering in this way, for a week or more, was 
nothing less than the yacht Viking, and their departed 
friend, Mr. Carleton. 

Jack,” he said, as he and Harvey sat cooking 
their supper on the stove in the cabin, the evening 
following this same afternoon’s fishing, “ do you 
know I believe there is something queer about the 
Viking/' 

“Not a thing!” exclaimed Harvey. “She’s as 
straight and clean a boat, without faults, as any one 
could find in a year.” 

“ No, that isn’t what I meant,” said Henry Burns, 
smiling. “ I almost think there’s something about 
her that we haven’t discovered. Did you ever think 
there might be something hidden aboard the boat 
that’s valuable?” 

“Cracky! no,” replied Harvey. “What in the 
world put that into your head ? ” 

“ Mr. Carleton did,” answered Henry Burns. 

“ Mr. Carleton ! ” exclaimed Harvey. “ Why, I 
never heard him say anything like that.” 

“ Neither did I,” said Henry Burns. “ It’s what 
he did — breaking into our cabin, and that sort of 
thing.” 

“What sort of thing?” asked Harvey, somewhat 


252 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


incredulous, despite his having considerable faith in 
the ideas of his companion. 

‘‘ Why, he tried to do it once before,” said Henry 
Burns. 

He did?” queried Harvey, in amazement. 
** You never said anything to me about it.” 

“ No ; because I didn’t think so, myself, at the 
time,” replied Henry Burns. You see, it was over 
there that night at Springton. Do you remember the 
man on the beach next morning?” 

Go ahead,” said Harvey. ‘‘ Perhaps I’ll see it 
when you tell it.” 

“ Well,” continued Henry Burns, “ I mean the old 
fisherman that spoke to Mr. Carleton just as we were 
pushing off. Don’t you remember, he spoke about 
Mr. Carleton’s borrowing his skiff to go out to his 
yacht the night before? Now you just think how 
Mr. Carleton looks — tall and nicely dressed — and 
that big blond moustache — and then that heavy, deep 
voice of his. That fisherman wasn’t mistaken. He 
remembered him. It was only the night before, too, 
mind you. 

‘‘ And, besides, the fisherman asked him if he had 
found his own boat all right in the morning. Now, 
don’t you see, whoever it was that borrowed the 
fisherman’s boat had gone down to the place where 
we had left our tender, expecting to find a boat at 
that very spot. You put the two things together, and 
it looks like Mr. Carleton. I didn’t think of it then, 
but Fve been thinking of it since.” 

Harry gave a whistle of astonishment. 

“ And he hadn’t lost that pin at that time, either,” 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 253 


said Henry Burns. ‘‘ Nor had he lost the pin he told 
about, the night after, when he was looking about 
the cabin with a light, while we were asleep. Then, 
I don’t believe he had lost any pin at all when he 
broke into our cabin; and if he had, why didn’t he 
wait till we came up? He knew we would be back 
in an hour or two. No, sir, he was after something 
in that cabin.” 

“Well, if you don’t think of queer things!” ex- 
claimed Harvey. “Anything else?” 

“ Nothing of itself,” replied Henry Burns, thought- 
fully. “ But isn’t it kind of queer that he should have 
tried to buy the Viking when he had seen her only 
once ? I’m sure Harry Brackett was making an offer 
for him. He had just come from Bellport, you know; 
and that’s where Mr. Carleton was staying. Now a 
man doesn’t usually buy a boat offhand that way.” 

“ That’s so,” assented Harvey. “ Well, what do 
you make of it all ? ” 

“ Why, that’s what puzzles me,” said Henry Burns. 
“ But you know how we came by the boat, in the first 
place. Supposing the men that owned her, and who 
committed that robbery up at Benton, had hidden 
something valuable aboard her, and that Mr. Carleton 
had heard of it. Naturally, he would try to get hold 
of it, wouldn’t he?” 

“ Whew ! ” ejaculated Harvey. “ But how could 
he hear of it? The men that committed the robbery 
are in prison.” 

“ Yes, that’s true,” said Henry Burns. “ But per- 
sons can visit them on certain days, in certain hours. 


254 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


There are ways in which Mr. Carleton could have got 
the information.” 

Jack Harvey was by this time wrought up to a 
high pitch of excitement. 

“ We’ll overhaul her this very night,” he cried. 
“We’ll light the lanterns and go over her from one 
end to the other. Say, do you know, it might be 
hidden in the ballast — in a hollow piece of the pig- 
iron, I mean. Of course the ballast was taken out 
of her last fall.” 

Henry Burns gave a quiet smile. 

“ It might be,” he said, “ but more likely some- 
where about the cabin. We better wait till morning, 
though, and do the job thoroughly. We’ll get Tom 
and Bob out then, to help — especially if you want 
to go through the ballast.” 

“ I’ll turn her upside down, if necessary,” cried 
Harvey, who was fired with the novelty of the ad- 
venture. “ Well, perhaps we better wait till morning. 
But I don’t feel as though I could go to sleep.” 

“ I can,” said Henry Burns, and he set the example, 
shortly. 

“ Well, if he can’t think of weirder things, and go 
to sleep more peacefully than anybody I ever heard 
of ! ” exclaimed Harvey, as he put out the cabin lan- 
tern and turned in for the night. 

On his promise of secrecy, they let George Warren 
into the scheme next morning. The other Warren 
boys had gone up the island. So, at George’s sug- 
gestion, they took the Viking up the cove, alongside 
the Spray, and lashed the two boats together. 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 255 


“ Now you can take the ballast out on to the deck of 
our yacht, if you want to,” said George Warren. 

“ Let’s overhaul the cabin, first,” said Henry 
Burns. 

As for Jack Harvey, he wanted to overhaul the 
whole boat at once, so filled was he with the mystery 
and the excitement of the thing. He threw open this 
locker and that, piled their contents out on to the 
cabin floor, and rummaged eagerly fore and aft, as 
though he half-expected to come across a hidden 
fortune in the turning of a hand. 

“ Look out for Jack,” said George Warren, wink- 
ing at Henry Burns. With half a word of encour- 
agement, he’ll take the hatchet and chop into the fine 
woodwork.” 

“ I’ll bet I would, too,” declared Harvey, seating 
himself, red-faced and perspiring, on one of the 
berths. Say, Henry, where do you think it is ? ” 

“ Probably under where you’re sitting,” replied 
Henry Burns, slyly, winking back at George Warren. 

Harvey jumped up, with a spring that bumped his 
head against the roof of the cabin; whereupon he 
sat down again, as abruptly, rubbing his crown, and 
muttering in a way that made the others double up 
with laughter. 

That’s a good suggestion, anyway,” he said, mak- 
ing the best of it. And he fell to tossing the blankets 
out of the cabin door. He searched in vain, however, 
for any hidden opening in the floor of the berth, and 
sounded fruitlessly for any suspicious hollow place 
about its frame. 

I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” suggested Henry 


256 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Burns ; you and Tom start forward, and George 
and I will start aft, and we’ll work toward one an- 
other, examining everything carefully as we go. 
We’ll pass the stuff to Bob and he can carry it out- 
side.” 

Setting the example, Henry Burns began with the 
provision locker on the starboard side, next to the 
bulkhead. He took everything out, scrutinized every 
board with which the locker was sealed, and tapped 
on the boards with a little hammer. But there was 
no unusual fitting of the boards that suggested a hid- 
den chamber, nor any variance in the sound where 
the hammer fell, to warrant cutting into the sides of 
the locker. He examined top, sides, and bottom, with 
equal care and with no favourable result. 

Next, on the starboard side, was the stove platform 
and the stove. There was no use disturbing that, so 
he passed it by. 

A chamber, sealed up and lined with zinc for an 
ice-box, afforded a likewise unfavourable field for 
exploration. 

Then came a series of lockers, with alcoves and 
shelves between, which occupied the space above the 
berths. These, and the drawers beneath the berths, 
were searched, but yielded no secrets. 

George Warren, on the port side, searched likewise, 
but with equally discouraging results. 

Harvey, forward, had the hatch off and the water- 
casks and some spare rigging thrown out on deck. 
The cabin deck and cockpit of the Viking looked as 
though the boat had been in eruption and had heaved 
up all its contents. 


SEARCHING THE VIKING 257 


“My!” exclaimed George Warren, “this is hot 
work. I feel like a pirate sacking a ship for gold.” 

“ Only there isn’t any gold,” said Harvey ; “ but 
ni try the ballast before I quit.” 

“ I’m afraid that’s not much use,” said Henry 
Burns. “ They wouldn’t go so deep as that to hide 
anything.. I’m afraid I’ve raised your hopes for 
nothing.” 

But Harvey was not for giving up so soon; and, 
seeing his heart was set on it, the others took hold 
with a will and helped him. They took up the cabin 
floor and lifted out the sticks of ballast. 

“ Glad there isn’t very much of this stuff,” said 
George Warren, as he passed a heavy piece of the iron 
out to Harvey. 

“ Well, so am I,” responded Harvey. “ There’s 
lead forward, so we won’t disturb that. But I’ve 
heard of hiding things this way, and there might 
be a hollow piece of the iron, with a cap screwed in 
it, or something of that sort.” 

“ He must have been reading detective stories,” 
said Henry Burns. 

Perhaps Harvey, himself, came to the conclusion 
that he was a little too visionary; for, after he 
had sounded each piece with the hammer until they 
had a big pile of it heaped outside, he grinned rather 
sheepishly and suggested that they had gone far 
enough. The boys needed no second admission on his 
part. They passed the stuff in again, and it was 
stowed away as before. 

“ Say, Henry,” said Jack Harvey, when, after an- 
other half-hour, they had restored the yacht to its 


258 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


former order, ‘‘ this wasn’t one of your jokes, was it 
— this hidden treasure idea ? ” 

Henry Burns sat down by the wheel, wearily. 

“ No, it wasn’t, honour bright,” he replied. ‘‘ But 
I guess it is a kind of a joke, after all. You four can 
pitch in and throw me overboard, if you like.” 

But they were too tired to accept Henry Burns’s 
invitation. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A RAINY NIGHT 

T he summer days went by pleasantly now, with 
naught to interrupt the enjoyment of the 
yachtsmen. The three yachts, the Viking, the 
Surprise, and the Spray, went on a friendly cruise 
around Grand Island, putting in at little harbours 
overnight, and the crews waking the stillness of many 
a small hamlet with their songs and skylarking at twi- 
light. They had races from port to port, the largest 
boat giving the other two time-allowance. They 
fished and swam and grew strong. 

Toward the middle of August, the crew gave up 
lobster catching and stored the lath-pots away for 
another year. The Surprise took to going on voy- 
ages down the bay, fishing on its own account. In 
fact, Harvey’s four charges had developed a surpris- 
ing and most commendable ability to look out for 
themselves, without assistance from him and Henry 
Burns. 

The Viking, too, went on a ten days’ fishing voy- 
age to the outer islands, cleaned up a good catch of 
cod and hake, and came back, with all the gear neatly 
packed away, ready to store for the winter. 

There had been only one thing lacking for the 
259 


260 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


season’s complete financial success. The mackerel had 
not appeared around the coast. It was getting near 
the first of September, and the local fishermen had 
lost hope of their coming. 

Guess it’s going to be an off year,” remarked 
Captain Sam. They’re uncertain fish. One year 
you can almost bail ’em out with a pail, and another 
year they just keep away. They’re getting a few 
down around Cape Cod, I hear, but I reckon the 
seiners have cleaned ’em out so there won’t be any 
’round these parts.” 

Nevertheless, the young fishermen were alive to the 
possibility of their coming. They scanned the water 
eagerly for signs of a school whenever they were 
cruising, and, at early morning, watched the harbour 
entrances in the hope they might see the fish break- 
ing. 

“ If we could only get the first run of them,” said 
Little Tim, “ we’d just make a fortune. The big 
hotels down the bay haven’t had any this season, ex- 
cept those they’ve sent to Boston and Portland for. 
They’d take the whole boat-load.” 

Little Tim was, in fact, the greatest optimist to be 
found around Grand Island. Perhaps it was because 
he knew less about signs and indications of fish, and 
trusted only to his own hopes. The old salts shook 
their heads and agreed it was surely an off year. But, 
wherever the Surprise cruised, if there was not a sea 
on, and the yacht was sailing slowly enough to admit 
of it. Little Tim had a line overboard, trolling far 
astern. The jig was baited with a white strip of fish, 
to catch the eye of any hungry mackerel that might 


A RAINY NIGHT 


261 


have ventured into the bay, despite the predictions of 
the islanders. 

Then, early one afternoon. Little Tim’s faith was 
rewarded. They were sailing lazily along, with a 
light west wind, in the lee of the small islands back 
of Hawk Island, some six or seven miles below 
Southport. Little Tim, seated on the after-rail, had 
his usual line astern, and the crew had had their 
usual jokes at his expense — especially when, now 
and then, a tug at the line, which had set Tim’s heart 
jumping, had proved to be only a floating bunch of 
seaweed, greatly to the chagrin of Tim, and to the 
amusement of the others. 

There came a smart tug at the line, and Little Tim 
was up like a rabbit out of its hole. He seized the 
line and began hauling in rapidly. 

Tim’s got some more seaweed,” said Allan Hard- 
ing. “ Too bad there isn’t money in that. He’s pulled 
enough up alongside the boat to make us all rich.” 

‘‘No, it isn’t!” cried Tim, excitedly. “Look, 
there’s a fish coming in — hooray! it’s a mackerel, 
too. See him shine.” 

Little Tim yanked the fish out of water, with a 
jerk that sent fish and mackerel- jig higher than his 
head. But there was no mistake about it. There 
was a mackerel, flopping and jumping in the bottom 
of the boat, glistening and gleaming, with its mingled 
shades of green and black and white. 

“Isn’t he a beauty?” exclaimed Tim, dancing 
about in wild- excitement. “It isn’t a No. i size — 
only a ‘ tinker ; ’ but it’s a mackerel sure enough, and 


262 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


they don’t come alone, these fellows. There are more. 
Get out the lines.” 

But his companions, no longer scoffing, were as ex- 
cited as he. Joe Hinman had the boat up into the 
wind, in a twinkling. The other two boys had the 
sail down on the run, and furled, with a couple of 
stops about it, and they were drifting slowly, the next 
moment, with lines out on every hand. 

However, Little Tim proved to be more of a discov- 
erer than prophet. The fish, if there were more of 
them about, were not running in large numbers. They 
caught a few more scattering ones, but they could see 
no school in sight. They stuck to it, however, till the 
middle of the afternoon. 

“They’re coming in, though,” said Joe Hinman; 
“ and we are the only ones that know it. We haven’t 
the bait for much fishing, anyway; so let’s run up to 
harbour while the wind lasts, tell Jack and Henry 
Burns, and we’ll all come down here again early in the 
morning, before the other boats get out.” 

Little Tim, winding up his line reluctantly, drew 
one more fish in before they set sail, well-nigh going 
overboard in his excitement. 

They reached Southport Harbour about five o’clock, 
and ran close alongside the Viking, which lay at its 
mooring. 

“ We’ve got something good for supper, Henry,” 
said Little Tim to Henry Burns, who was busily en- 
gaged cleaning up the decks of the yacht, with a broom 
which he dipped overboard now and then. 

“ Better send up and invite young Joe down,” said 
Henry Burns, paying little attention to the new arri- 


A KAINY NIGHT 


263 


vals. “ Jack and I are going into the tent, to eat 
supper with Tom and Bob.” 

“ All right,” said young Tim. “ It may be your 
only chance, though, to eat one of these this summer.” 

Henry Burns glanced up from his work at the 
string of six mackerel which Tim proudly displayed. 
Then he flung down his broom and ran to the com- 
panionway. 

“ Jack, come out here,” he cried. “ They’ve got 
some mackerel. They’ve come at last.” 

Harvey emerged hurriedly from the cabin, and gave 
a whoop of exultation when he saw the fish. 

“We want to go down first thing in the morning,” 
said Joe Hinman, “ before any of the other boats get 
out. There’ll be money in the first catch, if we have 
any luck.” 

“We won’t wait till morning,” said Henry Burns, 
decidedly. “ We’ll start to-night, and be on the 
grounds first thing. I’ll get Tom and Bob out. You 
fellows get your lines ready and we’ll go and catch 
some bait right off.” 

Henry Burns, while not of excitable temperament, 
had a way of doing things sharply and promptly when 
occasion demanded. He went below and presently 
gave a signal of three short toots on the fish-hom, in 
the direction of the camp. Bob was alongside next 
moment, in the canoe. 

“ What’s up? ” he asked. 

“ Get ready for a trip down the bay,” replied Henry 
Burns. “ We’re off to-night, just as soon as we get 
the bait. The mackerel are in. Tim’s found them at 
last.” 


264 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Tim showed the crew’s catch, 

“Fine!” exclaimed Bob. “I’ll tell you what,” he 
added, “ I’ve got supper under way. Let me take 
those fish, and I’ll cook them, too, and get supper 
ready for all of us, while the rest of you catch the 
bait. Tom will come out and help you.” 

Tim tossed the fish into the canoe, and Bob hastened 
ashore. 

They were all out in the cove shortly, with lines 
down close to the muddy bottom, for flounders and 
sculpins. The tide, at half-flood, served them fortu- 
nately, and soon the fish began to come aboard. Then, 
when they had their catch, they rowed around to the 
wharf, dropping Henry Burns ashore near the War- 
ren cottage. 

The Spray was gone from harbour; but Henry 
Burns left word for the Warren boys to follow, in the 
morning, impressing the importance of secrecy on 
Mrs. Warren, with a solemnity as great as if they 
were going after hidden gold. 

At the wharf, near the beach, a huge sort of coffee- 
mill was set up, which the mackerel fishermen used for 
grinding bait — but which had had no service thus 
far this year. Chopping the fish into pieces, they 
threw these into the mill, whence they dropped into 
a big wooden bucket, ground into a mess that might, 
as Little Tim remarked, look appetizing to a mackerel, 
but didn’t to him. 

“ There, we’ve got ‘ chum ’ enough,” said Harvey, 
when the bucket was two-thirds filled. “ We’ll need 
the rest of the fish to bait the hooks. Come on, before 
any of the fishermen see what we are doing.” 


A RAINY NIGHT 


265 


They rowed around quickly to the camp, whence 
the odours of supper emerged, appetizingly. Bob had 
been as good as his word, and everything was ready. 
They sat about the opening of the tent, and did full 
justice to Bob’s cooking. 

“ Lucky it’s going to be a good night,” said Henry 
Burns, glancing off at the sea and sky. “ Looks like 
a little breeze, doesn’t it. Jack?” 

“ I hope so,” replied Harvey. “ We’ll start, any- 
way. It’s clear, and it won’t be like drifting about 
down off Loon Island, if we get becalmed.” 

“ Can’t stop to clean up dishes to-night,” said Bob, 
as he piled the stuff into the tent, as soon as they were 
finished. ‘‘ We usually leave things more shipshape, 
don’t we, Tom? ” 

They tied the flap of the tent carefully, saw that 
the tent-pegs were firm, and the guy-ropes all right, 
and departed. By half-past seven o’clock they were 
out aboard, and the two yachts were under way. 

“ Too bad the Spray isn’t coming along,” said 
Henry Burns ; but I’ve left word for them to follow 
in the morning.” 

There was a light westerly breeze blowing, which 
was favourable for a straight run to the islands, with 
sheets started a little, and everything drawing. They 
set the forestaysail and both jibs and the club-topsail 
on the Viking; and, there being no sea, with the wind 
offshore, they made fast time. 

The Surprise, with everything spread, followed in 
the wake of the larger yacht. 

“ We’ll tell the mackerel you are coming,” called 
Henry Burns to the crew. 


266 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


They know it already. We told them we were 
coming back. We saw ’em first,” responded Tim. 

They were among the islands by ten o’clock, though 
the wind had fallen. They anchored in the lee of one, 
and prepared to turn in. 

We ought to be out early,” said Harvey; “but 
how are we going to wake up? I’m sure to sleep till 
long after sunrise, unless somebody wakes me. We 
ought to have some alarm to set, to wake us.” 

“ Don’t need it,” replied Henry Burns. “ I’ll set 
myself. I don’t know how I do it, but if I go to bed 
thinking I want to wake up at a certain hour, I 
almost always do wake at about that time. How will 
iour o’clock do ? ” 

“Early enough,” said Harvey; “but don’t over- 
sleep.” 

Sure enough, Henry Burns was awake next morn- 
ing by a few minutes after four o’clock; but he was 
not ahead of Little Tim, this time, who was so ex- 
cited that he had slept all night with one eye half-open, 
and who had been up once or twice in the dead of 
night, thinking it must be near morning. He was 
over the rail of the Viking, at the first appearance of 
Henry Burns, and, between them, there was no more 
sleep for anybody. 

It was dead calm over all the bay; and, one thing 
was certain, there was as yet no news of the mackerel 
having come in, for there were no boats out. 

“ We’ve stolen a march on the fishermen for once,” 
exclaimed Tom, as they ate a hurried breakfast and 
got the lines ready. “ I wonder if the mackerel are 
looking for breakfast, too.” 


A RAINY NIGHT 


267 


They put out, shortly, in the two dories, rowing 
down a half-mile to where the crew had seen the fish 
the night before. There was no sign of the water 
breaking, anywhere, to denote the presence of a 
school. 

“ Never mind, we’ll throw out, anyway,” said Har- 
vey. “ Sometimes they’re around when they don’t 
break. They may be feeding deeper.” 

Taking a long-handled tin dipper, he filled the 
bucket of bait nearly to the brim with sea-water, and 
stirred it vigorously for a moment. Then he took a 
dipper of the stuff and threw it as far from the boat 
as he could, scattering it broadly over the surface of 
the water. 

They waited, watching eagerly, but the bits of 
ground fish sank slowly, undisturbed. 

“ Don’t seem to be at home,” muttered Harvey. 

Row out a little farther, and we’ll try them again,” 

They repeated the manoeuvre several times, but 
each time the bait was untaken. It sank slowly, each 
tiny particle clearly defined in the still water, settling 
in odd little patches of discoloration. 

Then, of a sudden, there was a sharp severance of 
one of these patches, as though an arrow had been 
shot through it. The next moment, there was a dart- 
ing here and there and everywhere. The pieces of 
fish disappeared in tiny flurries. At the same time, 
the surface of the water broke into myriads of tiny 
ripples, as though whipped up by a breeze. 

They’re here,” whispered Harvey. “ Get out the 
lines.” He filled the dipper once more and threw it 
broadcast, but this time nearer the boats. They 


268 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


threw out the lines, baited with the shining pieces of 
flounder. 

It seemed as though every bait was seized at once; 
for, in a moment, every boy was pulling in, and a 
half-dozen mackerel came over the gunwales together. 

They baited up anew, then, knowing that no bait 
serves so well for mackerel as a piece cut from the 
under side of the fish, itself. This, white and shiny, 
and pierced twice through the tough skin with the barb 
of the hook, would indeed often answer several times 
in succession, without rebaiting. 

They rigged two lines for each fisherman, tying an 
end of each line to the gunwale, so that, when a bite 
was felt, one of the lines could be dropped while the 
fish on the other was hauled aboard. The mackerel, 
indeed, bit so ravenously that it was hardly necessary 
to stop to see if a fish was hooked, but only to catch 
up one line, as quick as a fish had been removed from 
the other and that line thrown out, and haul in again. 
Nine times out of ten there would be a mackerel on the 
hook. Standing up in the dories, to work to better 
advantage, they were soon half knee-deep in the fish. 

‘‘ We’ll fill the boats, if they keep this up,” said 
Harvey. “ Tom, you’re nearest the oars ; just row 
back toward the yacht, easily, and we’ll toll them up 
that way.” 

He threw out more bait, as Tom worked the dory 
back, and the whole school followed, hungrily. In a 
few minutes the boys had climbed aboard the yachts 
and were fishing from them, to better advantage. 

A half-hour went by, and the fish had not ceased 
biting. The boys were drenched to the skin from 


A RAINY NIGHT 


269 


their hips to their feet, with the drippingi^ from the 
wet lines ; for, in their haste, they had not stopped to 
don their oilskin breeches. 

“We ought to have known better, with all the ex- 
perience we have had this summer,” said Henry 
Burns ; “ but never mind, we’ll make enough out of 
this catch to buy new clothes, if the wind only serves 
us, later.” 

By the end of an hour, the sun was up and gleaming 
across the water. 

“ They’re likely to leave us soon, now,” remarked 
Harvey; but, oddly enough, the fish still remained 
about the boats in such numbers that the water seemed 
fairly alive with them. However, with the warmth 
of the sun’s rays, the voracity of the mackerel abated 
somewhat, and they began pulling them in more 
slowly. 

“ I’m just as glad,” exclaimed Tom, whose arms, 
bronzed and muscular, were nevertheless beginning to 
feel the novel exercise. “ My arms and wrists ache, 
and I know I’ll never be able to stand up straight 
again. My back is bent, and frozen that way, with 
leaning over this rail.” 

Suddenly, after a quarter of an hour more, the fish 
began making little leaps half out of water, breaking 
the surface with little splashings and whirls. 

“ They’ll be gone now,” said Harvey. “ Some big- 
ger fish are chasing them. That’s what makes them 
act that way.” 

This seemed to be true, for presently the water that, 
a moment before, had been alive with the darting 
fish, became still and deserted. They took one or two 


270 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


more, by letting their baits sink deep in the water, but 
the big catch was ended. 

“ It’s pretty near a record for hand-line fishing in 
a single morning around here, I guess,” said Harvey. 
“ How many do you think we’ve caught, Henry? ” 

“ Nearly five hundred, I should say,” answered 
Henry Burns. 

‘‘ More than that. I’ll bet,” exclaimed his enthu- 
siastic comrade. And for once, at least, Harvey was 
nearer correct than Henry Burns; for, when they 
had counted them, some hours later, there were five 
hundred, and eighteen more, in the Viking’s catch; 
and as for the crew of the Surprise, they were only 
fifty below this figure. 

“ Oh, but I’m hungry ! ” exclaimed Bob, dropping 
on to the seat. “ And, say, it’s somebody’s else turn to 
cook breakfast.” 

“ I’ll do it,” said Tom. 

“ Well, you go ahead,” said Henry Burns, ‘‘ and 
the rest of us will stow these fish down below, out of 
the sun.” 

They went to work with a will, the crew of the 
Surprise doing likewise. 

“ Too bad to stow fish in this nice, clean cabin,” 
said Joe Hinman; “ but never mind, we’ll have to turn 
to, by and by, and scrub it, that’s all.” 

They had the luck with them, again ; for hardly had 
they begun to prepare breakfast, than the water rip- 
pled with a second day’s westerly breeze. They got 
the two yachts under sail, without a moment’s loss 
of time. 

“ See here, Joe,” called Harvey, as the yachts be- 


A RAINY NIGHT 


271 


gan to fill away, “ we’ll play fair with you. We can 
outsail you some, and we shall get to Stoneland be- 
fore you do. We’ll take the big hotel in the harbour, 
and then the market. The market will buy all that 
either of us have left. We’ll leave you the other hotel, 
a half-mile up the shore. There are ’most as many 
guests there, and they’re all summer boarders, so 
they’ll take as many fish. If we break a stay on the 
trip over and get delayed, you give us the same 
chance, eh?” 

‘‘ Ay, ay,” responded Joe. “ Good luck'l ” 

The wind not only came sharp and strong, an hour 
later, but there were thunder-clouds in the sky, down 
near the horizon-line, and the breeze was full of quick 
flaws and was treacherous. Before they were half- 
way over to Stoneland, they were sailing under two 
reefs and making the water fly. 

“ It’s great ! ” cried Harvey, hugging the wheel, in 
his delight. Let her blow good and hard as long 
as it doesn’t storm. We’ll do the fifteen miles in an 
hour and a half, at this rate.” 

The two yachts were lying well over in the water, 
crushing it white under the lee-rail, and making fast 
time. 

“ We’ll get a storm, too, by nightfall,” said Henry 
Burns, looking weather-wise at the sky. ‘‘ But we 
shall have sold our fish first, and we’ll be snug behind 
the breakwater. So let it come.” 

The yachtsmen were in great spirits. Even Henry 
Burns betrayed symptoms of excitement as they ran 
into the harbour, early in the forenoon, and brought 
the Viking up neatly at the hotel wharf. 


272 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


A few minutes later, Henry Burns and Jack Har- 
vey approached a somewhat important-appearing per- 
son on the hotel veranda, who had been pointed out 
to them as the proprietor. 

Fish? No, I don’t buy fish,” he answered, shortly, 
in reply to Henry Burns’s question. See the stew- 
ard. He attends to that.” 

Harvey reddened, but Henry Burns smiled and 
said : 

“ That’s all right. Jack. We’re only fishermen, you 
know. Come on, we’ll see the steward. We’ll make 
him pay more for the fish, just because the proprietor 
was haughty.” 

Henry Burns was fortunate enough to catch the 
steward in the hotel office, where he stated his errand, 
coolly, before some of the guests. 

‘‘Good!” exclaimed one of them. “You’d better 
get ’em, Mr. Blake. You haven’t given us any fresh 
mackerel this season.” 

“ He’ll have to buy some, now, whether he wants 
to or not,” said Henry Burns to Harvey, as they fol- 
lowed the steward into his private office. 

“ Now see here,” said the steward, “ I’ve got some 
six hundred guests in this house, and I need about 
three hundred fish. I want a fairly easy price for that 
many.” 

“ Twenty cents apiece, right through,” answered 
Henry Burns, promptly. 

“ Ho ! That’s too much,” said the steward. “ Can't 
do it. Try again.” 

“ That’s the figure,” insisted Henry Burns. “ You’ll 
have to pay more, if we sell them to the market, you 


A RAINY NIGHT 


273 


know. Then there’s the hotel up the shore. What 
would your boarders say if we took them up there 
and sold them?” 

Steward Blake looked at Henry Burns sternly for 
a moment; then a grim smile played about the cor- 
ners of his mouth. 

“You’re kind of sharp, aren’t you?” he asked. 
“ Well, I guess you’ve got me there, as these are the 
first of the season. Throw in an extra dozen for good 
measure, and it’s a bargain.” 

“ All right,” said Henry Burns. 

A few moments later, with three twenty-dollar bills 
tucked away in a wallet in his inner waistcoat pocket, 
Henry Burns, with Harvey, was going briskly down 
to the wharf, where he and his comrades were soon 
engaged in loading the fish into the hotel wagon. 

“ We can be haughty now, ourselves,” he said, as 
they got under way once more and stood down for 
the market. 

Ten cents apiece was the marketman’s figure, and 
they let the remainder go for that. Then, with 
eighty dollars for the entire morning’s catch, they 
went aboard the Viking and punched and pummelled 
one another like a lot of young bears, from sheer 
excess of joy. 

“ I wonder how the crew will come out,” said Har- 
vey. “ I’m afraid they won’t do as well at a bargain 
as you did, Henry.” 

“ Perhaps so,” said Henry Burns. “ They’ve got 
Little Tim aboard, and he’s pretty shrewd, some- 
times.” 

And indeed, it was at Little Tim’s suggestion that 


274 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


the Surprise went on up the coast, after the crew had 
done business with the hotel left for them according 
to the agreement, and they sold the remainder of their 
catch at the hotel at Hampton, three miles farther on. 
And they, too, found themselves rich at the end of 
their bargaining, with sixty dollars to divide among 
the four of them. 

Then, as the day wore on threatening, with the 
thunder-clouds slowly mounting higher, and the wind 
coming in fiercer gusts, the yachts, each in a safe 
harbour, laid up for the day. The respective crews 
wandered about the towns as if they were each, in- 
dividually, the mayor, or at least were a party of the 
selectmen. 

The Warren boys, having returned on the previous 
evening, and being apprised by Mrs. Warren of the 
news confided to her care, were disappointed not to 
have joined the party; but they made ready, the next 
morning, to follow. Then the early morning steamer 
from Bellport brought them a letter, saying that Mr. 
Warren, senior, would arrive on the night-boat from 
Benton, and had arranged for a week’s cruise with 
them, among the islands. So they changed their plans 
to a short run down toward the foot of Grand Island, 
to be back at nightfall. 

There, again, the fortune of sailing was against 
them. By mid-afternoon, when they would have put 
back, the storm threatened. 

“No use,” said George Warren, reluctantly. 
“ We’ll have to wait for it to blow over. We’ll be 
glad enough of this good harbour in a half-hour 
more/' 


A RAINY NIGHT 


275 


The storm broke soon after, heavily. By five 
o’clock it was pouring in torrents, with sharps flashes 
of lightning illumining the darkened waters of the 
bay. By six o’clock it eased up a little. 

“ Well, one of us is in for it,” said George Warren. 

Somebody’s got to tramp up the island, home. 
Father will be down, and he won’t like it, to find us 
gone. The other two can sail the yacht up in the 
morning. We’ll draw lots to see who goes.” 

To the immense relief of his brothers, the lot fell 
to him. They consoled him, but with satisfaction not 
all unconcealed. He took it in good part, however. 

“ Don’t feel too bad about it, Joe,” he said, as he 
bade them good night. ‘‘ I know you wanted to go 
home, but I’ll tell the folks you’re comfortable.” 

He started of¥ in the drizzle. They had run down 
about seven miles, and there was that length of muddy 
road ahead of him. It was not his fortune to accom- 
plish much of his journey, however. Three miles up 
the island, the storm resumed its fury, blowing the 
rain fiercely in his face, while the whole island seemed 
to shake with the crashing of the thunder. It was 
useless to contend against it, and, at length, he turned 
in at a farmhouse by the roadside, and sought shel- 
ter. 

“ Yes, indeed,” said the housewife, to his request. 
“ There’s the spare room at the end of the hall up- 
stairs for you, and welcome. There’s wood in the 
wood-box, too, and you can build up a fire in the fire- 
place and dry your clothes. You’re as wet as a 
drowned cat. When you’re dried out, come down- 
stairs and I’ll have a cup of tea for you. We’ve had 


276 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


a boarder for two days in that room, but he went 
away yesterday; and Fm glad he’s gone, for your 
sake.” 

George Warren scrambled up the stairs, at the risk 
of the lamp which the woman had handed to him, 
lighted. Inside the room, he took a handful of kind- 
ling from the wood-box, and soon had it ablaze, with 
the aid of a few scraps of old newspaper. Then he 
laid some larger pieces of driftwood across, and 
quickly had a cheerful fire roaring up the chimney. 

He threw off his wet clothing, wrapped a blanket 
about him, and crouched by the fire to enjoy its 
warmth — for he had been chilled through. 

The huge, old-fashioned fireplace would seem not 
to have been used for a long time ; for, in the corners 
of it were odds and ends and scraps of paper, that had 
evidently been swept up from the floor and thrown in 
there, as the most convenient place for their disposal. 
George Warren poked some of this stuff into the fire 
and watched it blaze. He picked up a few scraps of 
paper and threw them in. 

Then, as he repeated this action, there was the half 
of an envelope that the light of the fire illuminated, 
as he held it in his hand. Part of the address re- 
mained, and, even as he consigned it to the flames, 
he read it clearly : 


“ Carleton, 

“ Bellport, 

» Me.” 

Hello ! that’s funny,” he remarked. “ That’s 
Mr. Carleton’s name — and he was over at Bellport, 


A RAINY NIGHT 


277 


too. I thought he had gone away to Boston. I’ll 
have to ask about him in the morning.” 

But, in his hurry next morning, George Warren 
forgot about the letter until he was a half-mile up the 
road. 

“I’ll have to tell Henry Burns and Harvey about 
that, anyway,” he said, as he walked along. “ Henry 
Burns likes mysteries. He’ll have some queer notion 
about why Mr. Carleton was down there. I’ll bet.” 

But George Warren failed to inform either Henry 
Burns or any one else about his discovery; for he 
went on a week’s cruise, next day, and when he re- 
turned it had passed out of his mind. At least, he 
didn’t think of it till about two weeks later. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 

S QUIRE BRACKETT sat in his office, deep in 
thought. To say that he was out of temper, 
would be putting it mildly. Something that 
he was trying to do baffled him ; and, being thwarted, 
he was irritable and unhappy. Now when Squire 
Brackett was unhappy, he usually succeeded in mak- 
ing everybody else with whom he came in contact like- 
wise unhappy. Therefore, when he betook himself 
to his office, of an afternoon, and sat himself down 
at his desk, to attempt to solve a certain puzzle, as he 
had done now for several weeks, at intervals, the 
members of his household kept discreetly aloof. 

Before the squire, on the shelf of his desk, lay the 
paper on which he had pasted the scraps of Mr. Carle- 
ton’s letter. The first effort at a solution of the puzzle 
had been one more of curiosity than aught else on 
his part. He had thought it would be rather a smart 
achievement, to discover something which another 
man had attempted to destroy, though it probably 
would be of no particular importance to the discov- 
erer. But, from that condition of mind, he had pro- 
gressed to a state wherein he thought he saw, hidden 
in the fragments of the letter, something of more than 
ordinary import. 


278 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 279 


As Squire Brackett had arranged them, the words 
and parts of words now lay before him thus ; 

lock 

ey 

must be 

sound 

mbers 

aboard yacht 

starboa 

still 

under 

ays 

third 

The squire’s increase of curiosity had resulted 
largely from his interpretation of the first two frag- 
ments. At a casual glance, he had decided that the 
first four letters were a part of the word, locker,” 
— which would be natural if the writer were refer- 
ring to a yacht. But he arrived at a different and 
more exciting conclusion, when it suddenly dawned 
upon him that the first word was really complete as 
it stood; that it was the word, “ lock.” This, because 
the next two letters clearly were part of the word, 
“ key.” 

‘‘ Of course,” he exclaimed. ‘‘ If I hadn’t been stu- 
pid I’d have thought of that before. Aha ! I have a 
whole sentence now, by simply supplying a few of the 
missing words.” He wrote as follows, picking out 
these words that the letter, as he had it before 
him, contained : key — lock — must be still aboard 
yacht.” 

“ That’s plain enough for a boy to read,” said 


280 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Squire Brackett. “ The sentence was, ‘ The key to 
the lock must be still aboard yacht.’ ” 

‘‘ Hm ! ” he exclaimed, rubbing his forehead, re- 
flectively. That’s interesting ; and it’s queer. 
Somebody knows a thing or two about that boat — 
and that somebody, whoever he is, has been writing 
it to Carleton. Still, I don’t see how that helps me. 
I can’t make much out of it.” 

The letter, having yielded up this much of its secret 
to the squire, became immediately of greater interest 
to him; but, at the same time, an object of greater 
annoyance and perplexity. He couldn’t get the thing 
off his mind. It became a sort of continual nightmare 
to him. Why, he asked, should any one write to Mr. 
Carleton about a key to a lock aboard the Viking? 

Being somewhat heavy-witted, in spite of a certain 
natural shrewdness, the squire did not answer his own 
question readily. 

On this particular afternoon, however, he advanced 
a step farther. 

“ Perhaps,” he said to himself, “ that word, ‘ sound,’ 
does not refer to timbers at all. It might be Long 
Island Sound, where this yacht has been at some 
time, probably. Oh, I wish I had the rest of the 
letter.” 

“ I tell you what ! ” exclaimed the squire, this 
thing is queer. That’s what it is. Who should know 
anything about this yacht, and who would be writing 
to Mr. Carleton about it ? It couldn’t be the men that 
had it before the boys got it. They were a band of 
thieves. What’s that? Hello! Why not? This man 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 281 


Carleton has cleared out. He didn’t buy that land of 
me. He never intended to; that’s what.” 

“ I’ve got it! ” he cried, jumping up excitedly and 
thumping his desk with his fist. Chambers! Cham- 
bers! That’s the man. He’s the man that set fire to 
the hotel. He’s the man that Jack Harvey captured 
down in the Thoroughfare. He’s the man that knows 
about the Viking — and there’s his name in the letter 
— or a part of his name. 

‘‘ Those letters, ‘ mbers,’ don’t mean ‘ timbers ’ at 
all. They were a part of the name ^ Chambers.’ Yes, 
and those letters at the end of the list, ‘ ays,’ don’t 
mean ‘ stays,’ either, as I thought they did. That 
word is ‘ says.’ 

“ ‘ Chambers says ’ something — now what does 
he say ? I have it : 

‘ Chambers says key to the lock must be still 
aboard yacht.’ 

‘‘ Wait a minute,” said the squire to himself. 
“ That word, ‘ starboard ’ comes in here somewhere. 
Starboard — starboard — oh, I see; ‘starboard 
locker.’ That first word is ‘ locker,’ just as I thought 
in the beginning.” 

The squire wrote his translation of the letter, as he 
bad thus far evolved it, as follows : 

“ Chambers says the key to the starboard locker 
must be still aboard yacht.” 

“ Now let me see,” reflected Squire Brackett, “ that 
leaves only three more words — ‘ sound,’ ‘ third,’ and 
‘ under.’ Well, I don’t know what they have to do 
with it. They probably referred to something else 


282 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


in the letter. But what on earth can that be in the 
starboard locker, — that’s what Fd like to know.” 

Deeply agitated, he arose from his chair and strode 
up and down the room. He rubbed his hands to- 
gether in a self-satisfied way. 

Looks like Fd get even with some of ’em yet,” 
he exclaimed, softly. ‘‘ There’s something aboard 
that yacht that’s valuable — and what’s more, that 
man Carleton came all the way down here on purpose 
to get it. I see it — I see it. They had a locker 
where they hid valuables, and there’s something there 
yet worth getting. Oh, I wish I had the rest of that 
letter!” 

The squire, forming a sudden resolve, put the 
precious paper in a drawer, locked it therein, and hur- 
ried down to the tent on the point. By good luck, he 
met Henry Burns coming away from it. 

“ How d’ye do, my boy? ” he said, trying to smile 
agreeably and to conceal his excitement, at the same 
time. 

‘‘ How do you do. Squire Brackett ? ” replied Henry 
Burns, reading easily something of more than ordi- 
nary significance in the squire’s shrewd face. Nice 
day, sir.” 

“Yes — yes, so it is,” returned the squire. “ See 
here, Fd like to hire that yacht of yours for a few 
days — possibly a week. I won’t sail her, of course. 
I’m no skipper. I’ll get John Hart to run her for 
me.” 

“ Sorry to disappoint you, squire,” said Henry 
Burns, “ but we can’t let the Viking. The season is 
most over, you see, and we want to have some fun 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 283 


with her the rest of the time. We’ve begun cleaning 
her out and washing her insides, ready for painting. 
Perhaps the crew will let you have the Surprise, 
though. I guess Harvey will be willing.” 

‘‘ Well, now,” said the squire, supposing I pay 
you ten dollars for her, just for four days. I’ll 
take — ” 

“ No, sorry to refuse,” said Henry Burns, ‘‘ but I 
don’t see how we can do it. Besides, we’ve got lots 
of money, ourselves, you know. We’ve been macker- 
eling.” 

The squire continued his urging, but Henry Burns 
was obdurate. The Viking couldn’t be hired — by 
Squire Brackett, at least. He went home, fuming in- 
wardly. 

“ If I only had the rest of that letter,” he kept re- 
peating. ‘‘ I don’t dare to offer them very much, on 
a mere chance. It might turn out like that land I 
bought of Billy Cook.” 

The squire, having his mind thus tantalized, began 
to worry over the mystery and even to dream of it. 
One night he dreamed that he had hired the yacht, 
and that he had found a bag filled with twenty dollar 
gold pieces in it; and, when he woke up, he was so 
angry to find it was only a dream that he scandalized 
poor Mrs. Brackett with his exclamations. 

Young Harry Brackett was made to feel the effects 
of his father’s mental disturbance. The squire assailed 
him with questions about Mr. Carleton, which puzzled 
the son exceedingly. Finally the squire demanded, 
point-blank, to know what Mr. Carleton had said to 
him when he commissioned him to buy the yacht. 


284 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ And you needn’t deny that he did get you to try 
to buy it, either,” he exclaimed, warmly, because 1 
know all about that.” 

Harry Brackett, taken aback, but concluding that 
Mr. Carleton had told his father about it, admitted 
the commission, but could not recall anything in par- 
ticular that Mr. Carleton had said at that time. 

“ Didn’t he want to know something about the 
yacht that he was intending to buy? ” demanded the 
squire. “Now just wake those sleepy wits of yours 
up and try to think.” 

Harry Brackett, much confused, endeavoured to 
obey. 

“ No, I don’t remember that he did,” said he, 
finally, “ only he wanted to know, of course, if I’d 
heard anything wrong about the yacht — anything 
queer about her — or something of that sort — seems 
to me he asked if there was anything queer about the 
boat — anything ever discovered about her.” 

The squire concealed a thrill of satisfaction by 
scowling, and exclaimed: 

“Well, why didn’t you say so before? I might 
want to buy that boat, myself, sometime. I want to 
find out about her.” 

A night or two after this. Squire Brackett awoke. 
He had had another dream : that he and Mr. Carleton 
had stolen aboard the Viking, in the dead of night, 
and had broken into the cabin. There, after the 
strange and impossible fashion of dreams, they had 
discovered the man, Chambers, at work, tearing up 
the cabin floor. Then, the dream progressed to a 
stage wherein Mr. Carleton and Chambers were 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 286 


handing out bags of money to the squire, piling his 
arms full of them. 

By degrees, these bags grew heavier, until the 
squire sank under their weight. But, to his horror, 
Carleton and Chambers did not cease heaping the bags 
of money upon him until he was smothering under 
them. They covered his face, his nose, the top of his 
head. He woke up in the midst of a vain endeavour 
to call for help, in which he could not utter a sound. 

Possibly the squire’s dream was explained by the 
fact that he found himself submerged beneath the bed- 
clothes, which he had drawn completely over his head, 
almost stifling himself. His pillow, which he clutched 
tightly in his arms, rested also on his left ear, like one 
of the imaginary bags of gold. 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” he groaned, freeing himself from the 
weight of clothing, “ that was a terrible nightmare. 
Confound that yacht! I wish it was sunk in the 
middle of Samoset Bay, and Pd never set eyes on it 
again.” 

But, with this awakening, the old subject of the 
mystery of the Viking returned to torment him. He 
lay awake for a half-hour or more, vainly trying to 
forget it and go to sleep, but finding the paper with 
the cryptogram forever flitting before his eyes. 

Then, of a sudden, he sprang out of bed, with a 
yell that awakened poor Mrs. Brackett in terror. Her 
first thought, naturally, was of burglars. 

‘‘ I have it ! I have it ! ” cried Squire Brackett, 
dancing about like a certain philosopher of old, “ I 
have it — it’s ‘ money ! ’ ” 

“ James Brackett ! ” exclaimed his wife, sitting up 


286 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


and glaring at him indignantly, I believe you're go- 
ing crazy over money. That's all you think about, is 
money — and all you talk about is money; and now 
here you are dreaming about money. Aren't you 
ashamed of yourself, jumping out of bed in the middle 
of the night and screaming ‘ money,' and frightening 
me almost to death? You come back to bed! " 

But the squire did seem to have gone actually 
crazy, for it was evident he was fully awake. He 
continued to prance about excitedly, exclaiming, “ It's 
money! I've got it! I've got it!" until poor Mrs. 
Brackett was at her wit's end. 

Ignoring alike her entreaties and her scornful re- 
marks, he descended to his office, drew forth the mys- 
tical paper, eyed it triumphantly for a moment, and 
then wrote as follows: 

‘‘ Chambers says MONEY must be still aboard 
yacht." 

“ Hooray ! " cried the squire. “ There it is. Oh, 
I reckon I'm pretty deep, myself. Yes, and I see the 
rest of it now." The squire finished the letter 
thus : 

‘‘ Sound under third starboard locker." 

“ That's right," he said. “ That means there's 
some sort of a secret chamber in one of the starboard 
lockers, and that by sounding, or hammering, on the 
right spot, it will echo hollow, or give some sound 
different from the other boards. Oh, I’ll get that 
yacht, no matter what I have to pay — and I'll get 
the money, too. I reckon I haven't cut my eye-teeth 
for nothing." 

The squire could hardly close his eyes for the rest of 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 287 


the night. By daybreak he was out alongside the 
Viking. 

“ Look here/’ said Squire Brackett, as he opened 
the doors of the cabin, and peered in at Henry Bums 
and Harvey, who were at breakfast, “ I want you 
boys to do me a little favour.” 

Harvey’s face betrayed his astonishment. 

“ Oh, I’ll make it worth your while, too,” continued 
the squire. I’m willing to pay handsomely for it. 
You see. I’ve got a party of friends coming down the 
bay, and I want to meet them at Mayville and give 
them a few days’ cruising. I’ll admit there’s a little 
business in it for me, too. Now I want to do the thing 
up in good shape, and my boat isn’t fit for putting on 
style. I want the Viking for just one week, and I’ll 
pay you twenty dollars for it.” 

There was no immediate response. Henry Burns 
and Harvey looked at each other doubtfully. The 
offer was almost tempting. 

“ Well,” cried the squire, seizing the opportunity. 
I’ll not stand at five dollars at a time like this. Say 
twenty-five dollars for a single week, and the money 
is yours.” 

“ In advance? ” asked Henry Burns. 

“ Y es, sir,” replied Squire Brackett, “ in advance — 
though I reckon my name on a piece of paper is good 
for that amount anywhere in this county. Yes, and 
I’ll do more. I’ll sign an agreement to deliver the 
yacht back to you in this harbour, one week from the 
time of hiring it, in as good condition as when I get 
it, or pay for the difference.” 


288 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Henry Burns looked at Harvey, inquiringly. Har- 
vey nodded. 

“ Well,” said Henry Burns, “ on those conditions 
I think we’ll let you have her — but only for one 
week. You’ll have to wait two days, though. We’ve 
got some fresh enamel on part of the woodwork, and 
some of the mahogany finish has been scraped and 
newly oiled, and it isn’t quite dry enough for hard 
usage yet. Let’s see, to-day is Wednesday. You 
may have her on Saturday morning, if you’ll bring 
her back the next Saturday, any time before night.” 

“ Here’s the money,” said Squire Brackett, 
promptly. ‘‘ We’ll consider the bargain closed, eh ? ” 

‘‘Yes,” assented the two yachtsmen. 

“Now what do you make of that?” exclaimed 
Harvey, as the squire rowed awkwardly ashore. 

“ Why, I think he has some land deal on hand,” 
replied Henry Burns, “ and he wishes to make a grand 
impression on the persons he is going to meet. He 
calls them his friends, but he’s friendly to any one 
that he thinks he can make money out of. They prob- 
ably are from the city, and he wishes to have them 
enjoy the sights of the bay in a fine boat. There’s 
money in it in some way for the squire, you can depend 
on it, or he wouldn’t do it.” 

Henry Burns was certainly right, in part. 

“ Well, we will have the yacht in fairly good shape 
for him by Saturday,” said Harvey. “ We’ll bring 
down the fine cushions and fixings from the Warren 
cottage, Friday night.” 

The boys worked industriously through this and 
the two succeeding days, putting the Viking in shape. 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 289 


The outer body of the boat had not received hard 
usage, even in their fishing, and the decks had been 
kept carefully scrubbed. So, with the cleaning and 
painting and oiling of the cabin woodwork, and var- 
nishing, where needed, they had got the yacht in fairly 
good condition before the squire had applied for her. 
Now, with the finishing touches, and the rubbing up 
of brass work, the Viking was beginning to shine and 
glisten as of old. 

“ I am almost sorry we agreed to let the squire have 
her,” said Henry Burns, as he and Harvey lay rolled 
in their blankets, the former on the starboard, the 
latter on the port berth, in the midship section of the 
yacht, on Friday night. They had finished a hard 
day’s work, had extinguished the cabin lantern, and 
were having a quiet chat before going off to sleep. 

‘‘ Oh, well, a week will soon pass,” said Harvey, 
“ and twenty-five dollars will swell our bank-account 
and put a finishing touch to the season’s balance. 
We’ll have to go and figure up with Rob Dakin, pretty 
soon, and see how we stand.” 

Rob Dakin, the storekeeper, was the boys’ banker. 
They had deposited their earnings in his safe, from 
time to time, keeping an account with him for grocer- 
ies and rigging, and drawing out what they needed. 

‘‘ Yes,” responded Henry Burns, we’ve got a good 
balance coming to us — and we’ve had a good time, 
too.” 

I’ve had the best time I ever had here,” said Har- 
vey, enthusiastically. 

They were talking in this way, growing drowsy, 
and speaking in low tones/ when Henry Burns sud- 


290 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


denly uttered a warning hush ” to Harvey, and half 
arose, resting on one elbow. 

What’s the matter ? ” whispered Harvey. 

Henry Burns laughed, softly. 

‘‘ The boat is bewitched,” he said. You needn’t 
get nervous, though. It’s just a funny little, squeaky 
kind of witch-noise. I heard it the other night when 
I was lying here; but, when I sat up and listened, the 
sound stopped.” 

“ What sort of a noise is it? ” asked Harvey, not 
much interested. 

Why, I’ll tell you,” answered Henry Bums, ‘‘ I 
suppose the witchcraft is really something loose about 
this berth, or about one of those shelves, or lockers; 
and that it works with the swinging of the boat in 
some way, and makes a squeaking noise.” 

‘‘ I don’t see anything very mysterious about that,” 
muttered Harvey. 

“ I don’t, either,” replied Henry Burns. ‘‘ Only the 
queer thing about it seems to be, that when I get up 
and listen for it, it stops.” 

Well, if any witches fly out of that locker, just 
wake me up to take a look at them,” laughed Harvey, 
preparing to roll up in his blanket again for the night. 

Henry Burns, also, lay down again, and the cabin 
was still. In about five minutes more, Henry Burns 
reached down quietly for one of his shoes and rapped 
with it on the shelf, above his head. 

“ What’s that ? ” demanded Harvey, roused from 
the early stages of slumber — ‘‘ some more of your 
witches? Say, you can’t make me nervous, so you 
better let me go to sleep.” 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 291 


“ Jack/’ said Henry Burns, arising and stepping 
over beside his companion, “ go over and try my berth 
awhile. Don’t go to sleep, but keep still, and listen 
— and tell me what you hear.” 

Harvey, grumbling a little at his comrade’s oddity, 
complied, yawning ferociously. 

“ If I see a witch I’ll eat him up,” he exclaimed. 
“ I’m dead tired.” 

“ Keep quiet,” was Henry Burns’s admonition. 

Harvey was silent, and again they lay still for al- 
most ten minutes. Then, of a sudden, Harvey raised 
himself on an elbow. Henry Burns was all attention. 

“Did you hear it?” he asked, softly. 

“ Sh-h-h,” whispered Harvey. He lifted his head 
close to the door of the locker and listened intently. 
Then, presently, he burst into laughter. 

“ You’re right, Henry,” he cried. “ They’re 
witches — four-legged ones — and we’ll have to clear 
’em out of this cabin before they do any mischief. 
There’s a nest of young mice in there somewhere, 
and it’s them we hear squeaking.” 

“ Well, to tell the truth, I thought of that, too,” 
said Henry Burns ; “ but I didn’t suppose mice ever 
got into a boat like this in the summer-time, when it’s 
in use.” 

“ Well, I don’t know as I ever heard of it,” re- 
sponded Harvey, “ though I don’t see why they 
shouldn’t. The schooners and fishermen have them 
in the hold, often. But sure enough they’ve got in 
here somehow. Let’s have a look.” 

The boys got up, lighted two of the cabin lanterns, 
and proceeded to investigate. 


292 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The berth on which Henry Burns had lain, and 
from which Harvey had just arisen, was in the middle 
of the boat. It was about six feet long by two feet 
wide, and sufficiently raised from the cabin floor to 
admit of two good-sized drawers occupying the space 
beneath. There was a locker in the side of the cabin, 
opening by a door close by the head, and one of the 
same size at the foot, of the berth. Between these 
was an alcove with some shelves. 

The door of the forward locker was so disposed 
that, if one were lying on the berth with his head 
forward, the door could not be opened without its 
coming in contact with his head. Therefore, the 
sound, if it came from within the locker, would be 
immediately in the ears of any one occupying the 
berth. 

Holding a lantern in one hand, Henry Burns opened 
the door of the locker and looked within. There was 
no sign of anything alive there. 

‘‘We gave this cabin a pretty good overhauling 
before, after that treasure,” said Harvey. “ It looks 
just the same now as it did.” 

“ Well, it must be underneath, then,” said Henry 
Burns. 

“ Yes, and we looked there, too,” said Harvey. 

“ Well, we’ll do the job more thoroughly, this 
time,” replied Henry Burns. “ Hand me one of those 
candles, and I’ll look underneath.” 

So saying, he set down his lantern, and pulled out 
one of the drawers directly underneath the berth 
where he had lain. As he did so, he gave an exclama- 
tion of surprise. 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 293 


‘‘What is it?” asked Harvey, appearing with the 
candle. 

“ I think we're on the right track,” said Henry 
Burns. “ Look, there's where the witches get 
through.” 

Close to the cabin floor, where a support of the 
cabin roof came down, a few inches below the lower 
edge of the drawer, was a small hole, large enough 
to admit of a mouse. 

“ That looks like the front door, sure enough,” said 
Harvey. 

They looked within the drawer, but there was no 
sign of occupancy there. 

“ We'll take the drawer completely out,” said 
Henry Bums. “ I don't believe we did that, before. 
Perhaps it doesn't All the entire space.” 

“ All right. I'll take the other one out, too,” re- 
sponded Harvey. “ We'll look behind both.” 

He drew the drawer out and set it down on the 
cabin floor. Henry Burns pulled out the drawer he 
had been examining, and set it down on top of the 
other. Then, as he glanced at them by the light of 
the candle which he held, he said, abruptly: 

“ Look there. Jack. We've found it. As sure as 
you live, this drawer is six or seven inches shorter 
than the other. There's a chamber behind it. Say, 
you don't suppose — ” 

Henry Burns did not conclude his sentence. In- 
stead, he got down on hands and knees, held the 
candle under the berth, and peered within. As he 
did so, he uttered a cry of triumph. 

“ Here, Jack, look inside,” he said, hastily, with- 


294 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


drawing his head, and handing the candle to his com- 
panion. 

Harvey ducked his head, and peered within. 

What he saw, in the chamber behind the space 
taken up by the drawer, was a little boxlike object, 
fastened in some manner to the under side of the 
bottom of the locker. 

Harvey, in turn, handed the candle over to Henry 
Burns. 

“ Here,'’ he said. “ You found it. It’s your right 
to have the first look at whatever is there.” 

Henry Bums, as near the point of actual excite- 
ment as he ever got, took the candle, eagerly, and 
looked again. The boxlike object was clearly a 
drawer of some sort, for, on closer scrutiny, there was 
revealed a tiny knob by which it might be drawn 
out. 

“ The mice are here, anyway,” said Henry Burns, 
as he reached in and set the candle down, preparatory 
to extending his arm at full length to draw out the 
box. “ I see a hole in one corner where they can get 
in and out.” 

Then, as he seized the knob and pulled the little 
drawer open, there darted out a small object that ran 
across his hand and disappeared in the darkness be- 
yond the lantern lights. 

Henry Burns laughed, the next moment, for he had 
dodged back, bumping his head and letting go of the 
knob. 

“ Run for your life. Jack,” he cried. ‘‘ Here comes 
the witch.” 

Then, before Harvey’s astonished eyes, Henry 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 295 


Bums drew forth into the light of the cabin lantern 
a little drawer; and, within it, a nest fashioned of 
odds and ends of paper and soft stuff; and, within 
the nest, a family of tiny mice, lying as snug as the 
proverbial bug in a rug. 

The drawer was about a foot in length, six inches 
deep, and perhaps four inches in height. It contained 
no apjiarent treasure — only a litter of paper that mice 
had torn and gnawed into pieces. There was no gold 
nor jewels therein. 

“ Hm ! ’’ exclaimed Harvey, with an expression of 
chagrin overshadowing his face, “ Don’t look as 
though there was anything there to make us rich — 
or to have warranted Carleton in breaking into our 
cabin, eh?’’ 

“ There isn’t now,” replied Henry Burns, calmly, 
but with a shade of disappointment in his voice. 

There isn’t now, but there was. The mice have 
got here before us, that’s all.” 

He held up to the light a scrap of the torn paper. 
It was no ordinary paper that the lantern-light re- 
vealed to the eyes of the astonished Harvey — far 
from it. It was the paper that no man may make for 
himself — the paper of a national bank-note — and 
there were, on this particular fragment, yet to be 
seen, a full cipher and the half of another. Harvey 
fairly gasped. 

“ That was a hundred-dollar bill ! ” he exclaimed. 

‘‘ Yes, or a thousand,” said Henry Burns. 

Harvey groaned. 

“Better drop those mice overboard, hadn’t we?” 
said he. 


296 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Henry Burns scooped the family up in his hand 
and passed them over. 

“ I believe you said if you saw a witch you’d eat 
her,” he remarked, slyly. 

“ Ugh ! ” ejaculated Harvey, as he dropped the 
mice alongside. “ Say, you take it coolly enough, 
don’t you? ” 

“Well, why not?” replied Henry Burns. “It 
isn’t our money that’s gone.” 

“ It would have been,” said Harvey. 

“ I don’t know whether it would or not,” responded 
Henry Burns. “ We’d have to turn it over to the 
authorities, I suppose, to see if any one claimed it — 
hullo ! what’s this ? ” 

Running the litter through his fingers, he turned 
up from the very bottom a piece of the paper that 
had escaped entire mutilation. He held it up tri- 
umphantly to the light. 

“ We’ve got one prize,” he cried. “ It’s the only 
one that isn’t destroyed — but it’s fifty dollars, and 
that’s something.” 

“ But there’s only a piece of it,” said Harvey. 

“ More than half,” said Henry Burns, joyfully. 
“ That’s enough. We can redeem it.” 

“ Oh, but isn’t that awful ? ” groaned Harvey, gaz- 
ing ruefully at the litter of paper that filled the drawer. 
“ Just think of all that money going to make a nest 
for mice.” 

“ It’s what you might call extravagance,” replied 
Henry Burns. “ I wonder how much there was. 
We’ll never know, though. But there was enough 


TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED 297 


to make it worth while for Mr. Carleton to come 
down here after it.” 

“ Say,” exclaimed Harvey, suddenly, ‘‘ do you sup- 
pose that’s what the squire’s after?” 

Henry Burns smiled, and stood for a moment think- 
ing, before he replied. 

“ Possibly,” he answered. “ But I don’t see how 
he could know of it. Where could he have learned 
of it? At any rate,” he added, with a twinkle in his 
eyes, “ I don’t see as we are under any obligation to 
tell him about it. We don’t have to assume that he 
is hiring our yacht to steal something out of the 
cabin. He has told us what he wants the boat for. 
We’ll take him at his word.” 

“ Oh, by the way,” he ^dded, did we throw those 
lobster shells overboard after we finished supper ? ” 
All but one claw that I didn’t eat,” replied the 
astonished Harvey. ‘‘ Why, what do you want of 
it?” 

In reply, Henry Burns, his eyes twinkling more 
than ever, and with a quiet smile playing about the 
corners of his mouth, went and got the lobster-claw 
from the ice-box. Emptying out the scraps of now 
worthless paper, he deposited the lobster-claw in their 
place, took the candle, and once more replaced the 
drawer in the secret chamber. Then he shoved in the 
larger drawer. 

“ Whoever finds that may keep it,” he said, as he 
rolled himself in his blanket and blew out the lantern 
nearest him. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 

S QUIRE BRACKETT was for once in rare good 
humour, as he came down to the breakfast-table 
on Saturday morning. He was beaming like 
a harvest moon, and a look of satisfaction overspread 
his heavy face. He even smiled affably on his son 
Harry, and was, withal, so pleased with himself, and 
so off his guard, that his son took advantage of the 
opportunity to ask him for ten dollars — and got it. 
By the time Squire Brackett had repented of his gen- 
erosity, young Harry had disappeared. 

“ The scamp ! ” reflected the squire. ‘‘ Smart 
enough to see something is up, wasn’t he? Well, I 
reckon Pm glad of it. He comes by his smartness 
honestly, I vow. I wonder how the wind is.” 

He was, indeed, a bit apprehensive on this score, 
for he was a bad sailor. He had, moreover, a vivid 
recollection of the last time he went threshing down 
the bay in Captain Sam’s Nancy Jane, and of how 
sick and frightened he was. 

“ However,” he thought, “ I guess I can stand it.” 
And he added, chuckling, It will be worth my while, 
or my name isn’t Brackett.” 

298 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 299 


Mrs. Brackett was perplexed. She couldn’t, for 
the life of her, understand what had come over the 
squire, to induce him to venture forth on a yachting 
trip. 

‘‘ Why, you just hate the water — you know you 
do, James,” she exclaimed, as the squire was bustling 
about, getting out his greatcoat and preparing other- 
wise for his departure. You said, a year ago, when 
you got back from that chase after those boys, that 
you’d had enough sailing to last you the rest of your 
life. And I don’t see why you don’t use your own 
boat. Here you’ve been talking about selling her for 
the last three years, because every time you go out in 
her you’re dreadfully sick. You’d better get some 
use out of that boat while you have it.” 

“ Well ! well ! ” responded Squire Brackett, some- 
what impatiently. “ This is a business trip. You 
can’t understand, because it’s business — important 
business. I guess I know my affairs, or I wouldn’t 
be the richest man on Grand Island. You just get 
that lunch ready, so I can start before the wind grows 
any stronger.” 

Mrs. Brackett complied, obediently, but wondering. 

“Morning! morning! Nice day, my lads,” said 
the squire with unwonted cordiality, some minutes 
later, as he appeared alongside the Viking, accom- 
panied by John Hart and Ed Sanders, who were to 
constitute his crew. 

“ Good morning, squire,” responded the yachtsmen, 
catching the painter of his boat and making it fast. 
“ You’re going to have a glorious day to start off 


300 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


‘‘Think so?’' queried the squire. “ Not going to 
blow much, eh?” 

“ Not this morning, by the looks,” replied Henry 
Burns ; “ just a nice little easy southerly that will 
take you up to the head of the island in fine style. 
Then all you’ve got to do is to beat down the western 
side, a mile or so, and you can stand right over to 
Mayville without touching a sheet — isn’t that so, 
Captain Hart ? ” 

John Hart, having the prevailing contempt of the 
born and bred fisherman for the amateur sailor, 
grunted a curt affirmative. 

“ Well, take good care of the Viking” said Harvey, 
as the squire’s crew cast loose from the mooring and 
stood away, leaving the boys in their tender astern. 

“ We’ll do that,” replied the squire, assuringly. 
“ And if we don’t, why, you’ve got it in black and 
white that I’ll make it good to you. A bargain’s a 
bargain. That’s my principle.” 

The Viking, under a gentle breeze, was soon out 
of the harbour, clear of the bluff, and was running 
up alongshore. Jack Harvey and Henry Burns rowed 
ashore, to the tent, where Tom and Bob were await- 
ing them. Something that Henry Burns and Harvey 
confided to them, as they sat together on the point, 
sent the campers off into roars of laughter. 

“ Oh, but I’d give my shoes to see the squire when 
he finds that lobster-claw — if that’s what he’s after,” 
cried Tom, punching Henry Burns in an ecstasy of 
mirth. “ Do you suppose that’s really what he’s hired 
her for, though ? ” 

“ Don’t know,” replied Henry Bums, solemnly. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 301 


“No; Squire Brackett wouldn’t do anything like 
that.” 

“ Well, let’s go up to the store and see how we 
stand,” suggested Harvey. “ Come on, fellows. 
You’re interested in this.” 

“ How much do you think we have earned. Jack? ” 
asked Henry Burns, as they walked up the street 
toward Rob Dakin’s store. 

“ Oh, more than two hundred dollars — quite a 
little more, before taking out expenses,” replied Har- 
vey. 

“Yes; nearer three hundred, counting Tom’s and 
Bob’s share, I think,” said Henry Burns. 

“ Well, that’s reckoning in the fifty dollars we 
found in the cabin, isn’t it ? ” asked Harvey. 

“ Yes, I guess it is,” said his companion. “ It re- 
mains to be seen, of course, whether we can keep that 
or not. We’ll ask Rob Dakin what he thinks about 
that.” 

“ Well, I’ll tell you what I think about it,” said Rob 
Dakin, some minutes later, after the boys had seated 
themselves in his store. “ You say you found that 
piece of a bill in a locker in the cabin of your boat. 
Now there are two things to consider about that: 

“ In the first place, if the owner of the boat — 
supposing she was stolen — put that money in there, 
and he should turn up and claim the money, why, you 
might have to give it up. Of course the boat was 
taken over by the sheriff and sold, according to law; 
and if the owner claimed the boat I reckon he’d have 
to pay Mrs. Newcome what it cost her. But nobody 
has ever claimed her, and there isn’t really any danger 


302 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


of that. So far as that goes, the money seems to be 
yours. 

“ Now, in the second place, the men that had this 
boat, and who were sent to prison, might have had 
this money. Well, if it was their own money, why, 
the State would take it and keep it and restore it to 
them after they are set free. If it was stolen money, 
and the owner couldn’t be found, I can’t just say 
whether you could keep it or whether it would belong 
to the State. I’m not quite lawyer enough for that. 
But if they should deny knowing anything about it, 
why, I reckon it would belong to you, as you found 
it aboard your own boat.” 

Well, we will figure it in, anyway,” said Henry 
Burns. 

So, at their request to draw them up a statement 
of their affairs, real “ shipshape,” as Henry Burns 
expressed it, Rob Dakin set to work and, after some 
minutes’ figuring, produced a sheet at which they 
gazed with pride and satisfaction. It was as follows : 


LEDGER OF THE VIKING — FISHING SLOOP 
Earnings 


1st trip to Loon Island . 
2d trip to Loon Island 
3d trip to Loon Island 
Lobsters — apart from crew 
Big mackerel catch 
Other mackerel 
Other fishing . 

Paid by the Squire . 

Found in the cabin 


$18.00 

22.00 

35.00 

45.00 

80.00 

30.00 

1 5.00 

25.00 

50.00 


Total earnings 


$320.00 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 303 


Expenses 

Tom’s and Bob’s share first three trips 


$25.00 

Tom’s and Bob’s share mackerel 


36.66 

Tom’s and Bob’s share other fish 


5.00 

Bait purchased .... 


9.50 

Anchor 


5.00 

Extra rigging 


1 5.00 

Hooks and lines .... 


10.00 

Provisions ..... 


25.00 

Hire of tender .... 


10.00 

Paid Captain Sam for labour . 


11.50 

Incidentals 


13-50 

Total expenses .... 




$i66.i6 


Balance . 
Henry Burns’s share 
Jack Harvey’s share 


$153-84 

76.92 

76.92 


Hooray ! ” cried Harvey, waving the paper, tri- 
umphantly. I wonder what my dad would say to 
that, ril bet he’d be pleased. That’s the first money 
I ever earned.” 

Well, why don’t you write him about it ? ” sug- 
gested Henry Burns, with a wink at Tom. You’re 
feeling pretty strong after the summer’s sailing.” 

“ Say, I never thought of that,” exclaimed Harvey. 
“ I’ll do it — that is. I’ll do it some day — say — well, 
some rainy day when I’ve nothing else to do.” 

“You like to write letters about as well as I do,” 
said Henry Burns, laughing. “ But I’ll tell you what 
I’ll do. You write to your father, and I’ll write and 
tell old Mrs. Newcome what we’ve done this summer 
with the boat. She’d be pleased to know about it.” 

“ All right,” said Harvey. “ It’s a bargain — that 


304 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


is, some day when it’s raining good and hard and 
nothing else to do. Perhaps you’ll let me read your 
letter over first. It will sort of give me an idea what 
to say.” 

We’re much obliged to you, Mr. Dakin,” said 
Henry Burns, as they left the store. “You keep the 
money for us till we go home. We’ll want a few more 
provisions, too.” 

“ Oh, you’re welcome,” responded Rob Dakin, 
good-naturedly. “ You’re good customers, and I’m 
glad to oblige you. I hope you can keep that fifty 
dollars.” 

And, to look ahead a little, they did keep it. Some 
days later, Mr. Warren, who had been communicated 
with at Benton, and who had looked into the matter, 
wrote them a letter that contained good news. It 
was, simply, that the men in prison, questioned re- 
garding it, had denied flatly knowing anything about 
a secret drawer or hiding-place anywhere aboard the 
Viking. Perhaps they had their own good reasons 
for doing this. Perhaps it was, that they feared the 
consequences of the disclosure. Perhaps the money 
had really been stolen and concealed there by them. 
Perhaps they feared their admission of such a hiding- 
place would put them at the mercy of the authorities 
— who might have unearthed more about it than had 
been told — and that it might convict them of still 
another crime. 

Whatever their reason, it was known to them alone. 
But their denial left the money to the finders. 

To return, however, to the day of their reckoning, 
the yachtsmen, in high spirits, invaded the Warren 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 305 


cottage ; and, later, the party, augmented by the 
three brothers, travelled down to the camp of Har- 
vey's crew, where they held carnival till late into the 
night. 

Squire Brackett’s adventures throughout the day 
had been, on the whole, rather more exciting than 
those of the campers and the yachtsmen. The squire 
had gone aboard the Viking with mingled feelings 
of exultation and misgiving. But, as he had looked 
abroad over the surface of the bay, his courage had 
been restored somewhat, for there were no waves of 
any size discernible to his eyes, and the wind was still 
light. 

He seated himself nervously near the stern, where 
John Hart was holding the wheel, while Ed Sanders 
managed the jib-sheets. The jibs soon ceased to 
draw, however, as they were beginning to run 
squarely before the wind; so Ed Sanders contented 
himself with hauling up the centreboard, and then 
betook himself to the cabin, for a nap. 

This was a sad blow to the squire. He was fairly 
consumed with eagerness to go below and hunt about 
in the cabin, undisturbed, and without attracting at- 
tention. But he couldn’t do it while Ed Sanders re- 
mained awake. So he was constrained to sit out in 
the sun, and listen to John Hart’s explanations of the 
art of sailing — which didn’t interest the squire at all 
— and hope for slumber on the part of Ed Sanders. 

Finally there came a welcome sound to his ears, a 
hearty snore from the cabin. 

‘‘ I declare, that makes me sleepy, too,” said Squire 
Brackett, simulating a yawn and stretching his arms 


306 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


above his head. “ I believe Til go below for a few 
moments, myself, and see if I can’t get a nap. It’s 
hot, this morning.” 

The morning was, in fact, unusually sultry for 
September, and the wind showed no signs of increas- 
ing and cooling the air. 

“ Well,” replied John Hart, “ this is a good morn- 
ing to sleep, but I don’t know as I would go below 
if I were you, squire. You know, if a man has any 
tendency to be squeamish, that is apt to send him 
off.” 

Yes, I know,” answered the squire; but it seems 
so nice and still that I think it won’t disturb me. I’ll 
just drop off to sleep as easy as a kitten.” 

He accordingly descended the companion, looked 
sharply at Ed Sanders, to satisfy himself that he was 
sound asleep, and went to the forward end of the 
cabin. 

'' Let’s see,” he muttered, I wonder if the ‘ third 
starboard locker ’ means the third from the stern or 
the third from the bow.” 

The squire began opening the lockers along the 
starboard side, at random, and peering inside. 

“ We’ll see what sort of an equipment these young- 
sters have left us,” he exclaimed, aloud. 

But, just at this moment, the squire felt a queer 
sensation, like a strange, quick spasm of dizziness, 
accompanied by a slight shiver. It was gone the next 
moment. 

‘‘Nonsense!” he exclaimed to himself. “Funny 
how a man’s imagination works in a cubby-hole like 
this. I almost thought I was dizzy for a moment. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 307 


Confound that John Hart! I wish he hadn’t said 
anything about being seasick. Of course a man can’t 
be seasick on a quiet day like this. Pooh ! ” 

The squire perhaps had not taken into account, aS 
had John Hart, that, whereas the sea was not ruffled 
by any chop-sea or breakers, there was still an ex- 
ceedingly long, almost imperceptible undulation of the 
bay ; a moderate but continuous heaving of the 
ground-swell, that swayed the boat gently from beam 
to beam or rocked it slowly from stem to stern. The 
squire did not realize that it was this that had set his 
brain momentarily awhirl. 

Like many another sailorman, John Hart, having 
given his advice and finding it disregarded, consid- 
ered it no longer his business whether the squire fared 
well or ill. Likewise, he did not see fit to warn him 
of the near approach of a big tramp steamer that was 
on its way, a little farther out in the bay, to Benton, 
to load with spool-wood. 

The big tramp was making time, with black smoke 
pouring out of its two funnels; and, as it went along, 
it sent a heavy cross-sea rolling away from its bows 
and stern. 

A few moments later, just as the squire had opened 
the lower drawer beneath the third locker from the 
starboard end of the yacht, something extraordinary 
happened to him. His feet were suddenly knocked 
from under him. At the same time, it seemed as 
though the cabin roof had fallen down; for the 
squire’s head came in violent contact with it. Like- 
wise, it seemed as though the yacht was standing on 
its bowsprit and kicking its stern into the air; and, 


308 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


likewise, as though it were performing, at the very 
same instant, as violent a series of antics as the crazi- 
est bronco that ever tried to buck its rider. 

The immediate result was, that Squire Brackett first 
bumped his head against the roof of the cabin. Then 
he fell over sidewise and hit a corner of the centre- 
board box. Finally, he found himself lying on the 
cabin floor, rolling about in highly undignified and 
uncomfortable fashion. 

But, saddest to relate, when he had in a measure 
recovered from his amazement and endeavoured to 
pick himself up from the floor, his head was swim- 
ming round and round like a humming-top. Poor 
Squire Brackett was, indeed, as addle-brained as a 
sailor that has had a day’s shore leave and has spent 
it among the grog-shops. With a groan of anguish, 
he relinquished all hope of treasure-hunting and 
crawled upon one of the berths, where he lay help- 
less, and muttering maledictions on the head of John 
Hart for not warning him of what was coming. 

“ Hello, what’s the matter? ” cried Ed Sanders, 
sitting up and addressing the squire, whose sudden 
downfall had awakened him. 

“ The matter ! ” roared the squire, in a burst of 
energy and indignation — “ the matter is, that you 
were down here sleeping like a mummy instead of 
attending to business on deck. Here’s a sea hit us 
and nearly turned the yacht upside down, and my 
neck nearly broken.” 

“ Ho, we’re all right,” said Ed Sanders, intending 
to be reassuring. Just a little swash from a steamer, 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 309 


I guess. She's rocking a little, but there ain’t any 
harm in it.” 

The squire was so unutterably disgusted that he 
couldn’t find words to reply. What could he say to a 
man that assured him he was all right when he was 
beginning to feel the qualms of seasickness? There 
were no words in the language to do the occasion 
justice. 

Nor was he mollified or comforted by the appear- 
ance, the next moment, of John Hart at the com- 
panionway, also declaring that really nothing had 
happened — nothing of any consequence — and that 
he would be feeling as fine as an admiral in a few 
minutes. 

The squire tried to reply, but could only choke and 
sputter. 

'‘Nothing of any consequence, eh?” he groaned. 
“ Oh, my head ! O-h-h ! If I die I hope they’ll indict 
John Hart for murder, and hang Ed Sanders for 
criminal negligence. Nothing of any consequence — 
but I know I’ll never live to see the end of this voy- 
age.” 

The squire’s agitation was not abated with the 
rounding of the head of the island; for, with this, 
what slight sea was running was soon broadside on, 
so that it rolled the Viking from side to side — not 
roughly, but enough to cause him untold misery. 

Finally, at John Hart’s solicitation, he was induced 
to return to the outer air, where he sat, wrapped up 
in two heavy blankets, shivering, and with his teeth 
chattering, although the day was exceedingly hot. 

When, at the close of the afternoon, they had ar- 


310 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


rived at Mayville, the squire had had enough yacht- 
ing. He staggered ashore and took a carriage to the 
hotel, rather than spend the night aboard the Viking. 

“ Well, sir,” said John Hart, some time the next 
forenoon, when the squire, improved in appearance 
and temper, had come down to the dock, ‘‘ when do 
you expect that yachting party to arrive ? ” 

“ What yacht — ” began the squire. He had for- 
gotten for the moment the alleged object of the trip 
to Mayville. “ Oh, you mean my party ? ” he said. 
“ Why, they won’t be here until night. I won’t need 
you two at all to-day. You can have the day off. 
Here’s fifty cents to buy both of you your dinners. 
You needn’t come back until night.” 

“ Well,” said Ed Sanders as he and John Hart 
departed from the dock and went on up the main 
street of Mayville, ‘‘ I thought the squire wasn’t hurt 
much by that bump he got yesterday in the cabin, but 
I declare if I don’t think it injured his brain. Did 
you ever know of his giving anybody fifty cents 
before? ” 

“No, never did,” answered John Hart; “but if 
getting seasick has that effect on him, we’ll make him 
sick every time he goes out. Next southerly we get, 
with the tide running out, we’ll sail into the worst 
chop-sea we can find and give him a dollar’s worth.” 

Squire Brackett, however, watched them disappear 
with a satisfaction equal to theirs. He rubbed his 
hands like a money-changer, and stepped from the 
wharf aboard the Viking with the assurance of a 
buccaneer. He almost imagined he was a sailor when 
a man on the wharf accosted him. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 311 


“ Fine boat you’ve got there,” said the stranger — 
evidently from the city. 

She’s pretty good, if I do say it,” replied Squire 
Brackett, swelling out his chest and looking nautical. 

“ Looks as though she might carry sail some,” con- 
tinued the stranger, admiringly. 

“Ha!” exclaimed the squire. “The harder it 
blows the better we like it. My men say to me, time 
and time again, ‘ Most too much wind. Captain 
Brackett; better reef, hadn’t we?’ ‘Not much,’ is 
what I say. ‘ Let a topsail go if it wants to. I’ll buy 
another when that’s gone. Keep her down to her 
work. She’ll stand it.’ What’s the use of having a 
good boat if you keep her in a glass case, eh, sir ? ” 

“ Well, I suppose that’s so,” replied the stranger, 
much impressed. “ But you’ve got to have the nerve 
to do it.” 

“ It’s nothing when you’re accustomed to it,” said 
Squire Brackett, taking a nautical survey of the sky, 
and rolling toward the companionway like an old 
salt. 

Before he began operations, however, he returned 
on deck, took the bow-line and drew the yacht close 
in to the pier, stepped off and cast loose the end of 
the line where it was made fast to a spiling. There 
was another line out astern, to which an anchor was 
attached, and which had been dropped at some dis- 
tance from the boat. This was to keep the yacht from 
getting in too snug to the pier and scraping the paint 
from its sides. The squire took hold of this rope and 
drew the yacht out farther from the pier, so that no 
one could step aboard from there. 


312 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Thus safe from interruption, he again went beiow 
and sprang breathlessly to the drawer. 

“ Here’s the third starboard locker from, the bow,” 
he muttered. “ ^ Money is still aboard yacht,’ eh ? 
Ha! ha! I’ll show ’em a thing or two. He didn’t 
intend to buy my land — the rascal. Well, I’ll get 
his treasure. They will run down my sailboat, will 
they? Well, I’ll pull a prize out of their own boat. 
They’re a smart lot, the whole of them ; but I’ll show 
’em who’s smarter.” 

Squire Brackett’s hand shook with excitement as he 
drew out the large drawer. 

He looked into it earnestly, but there was clearly 
nothing of value in it, nor anything queer in its con- 
struction. He opened the door to the locker, and 
pounded on the bottom of that. 

There’s nothing odd about that, so far as I can 
see,” he exclaimed. “ Well, it’s in behind there. 
That’s where it is. I’ll just get a light and take a 
look.” 

The squire hurried to the provision locker, rum- 
maged therein, and found the stub of a candle. He 
nearly burned his fingers in lighting it, so wrought 
up was he. 

Returning to the opening whence he had withdrawn 
the drawer, he got down on his hands and knees and 
peered within. The candle-light flickered on the little 
drawer that fitted snugly to the under side of the 
locker’s bottom. The squire felt a queer, almost chok- 
ing sensation come over him. He thought of the 
jewel robbery of the year before, up at Benton. He 
thought of the men that had had the Viking. The 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 313 


possibilities of his find swept through his excited 
brain, till the fancy fired his imagination beyond his 
hitherto wildest dreams. 

In a delirium of expectation, and breathing short 
and quick like a man that has run a race, the squire 
snatched at the tiny knob, grasped the little drawer 
with eager hands, drew it forth, and rushed with it 
to the cabin door. 

For one brief, ecstatic moment he paused exult- 
antly. Then a strange, remarkable change came over 
him and he stood like a man stiff frozen. The look 
of anguish, of rage, of disappointment, of amazement 
that distorted his features was like that which an 
ingenious South Sea Islander might give to an image 
he had carved out of a very knotty and cross-grained 
junk of wood. 

He held the drawer out at arm’s length, as though 
he was demanding that some imaginary person should 
look and behold the contents. And the contents, that 
the squire’s own eyes rested upon, were indeed not 
silver nor gold nor precious jewels, nor even the 
tawdriest trinkets, but — of all abominations — 
Henry Burns’s lobster-claw! 

A moment later, the squire uttering an exclamation 
that shall not be recorded here, lifted the drawer 
above his head, hurled it down upon the floor, and 
crushed it with his heel. Once, twice, thrice he 
stamped upon it, shattering it to pieces, and crunching 
the lobster-claw into a shapeless mass. And then — 
why then, all at once, it flashed into his mind that he 
had, in his fury, done precisely the wrong thing; the 
very thing he should not have done. 


314 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 

If any one had put that claw in there for him to 
find, why, of course, they would look for it when the 
Viking was returned. It was bad enough to be 
cheated, defrauded, robbed — thought the squire. 
But to know that Henry Burns and Jack Harvey and 
all the rest of the scamps would look for that drawer, 
and find it missing, and laugh themselves sick to 
think of his discomfiture, why, that was not to be 
thought of. 

Squire Brackett stooped down and gathered up the 
pieces of the shattered drawer. Fortunately, they 
were of common pine, and were mostly wrenched 
apart where they had been nailed together. The 
squire hunted for hammer and nails in the yachts- 
men’s stores, and hammered the drawer together as 
best it would go. He cast loose the line astern and 
pushed the yacht in to the pier again. Then he hunted 
around, outside of a boat-shop near by, till he found 
a small piece of wood that would do, with proper 
shaping, to supply one of the parts he had broken. 

Altogether, with his clumsiness in the matter of 
reconstruction, the squire consumed the rest of the 
morning repairing the drawer he had wrecked. 

Then, when he had finished his work, he strode 
away up the street and made a purchase. The pur- 
chase was a fine, big boiled lobster — just a shade 
redder than the squire’s face as he paid for it. But, 
having paid for it, he took it back to the yacht and 
ate it for his dinner — all but one claw. That claw 
he wished to save. He was so careful of it, indeed, 
that he put it away in a certain secret drawer under 
the third locker on the starboard side. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 315 


“ No, they’re not coming,” he said, that evening, 
to John Hart and Ed Sanders, on their return. “ Too 
bad. Got a telegram saying they can’t come. The 
sailing party’s given up. Shame, isn’t it? However, 
I’ve got some business I’m going to attend to before 
I go home. We’ll stay the week out. Your pay goes 
on just the same. So you needn’t say anything to 
the boys about my not using their yacht. They might 
think they got a shade the best of me. It’s all right, 
though. I can make use of the time.” 

The squire, in truth, was too ashamed to return so 
suddenly. He spent the week in Mayville; and of all 
miserable weeks in his existence, that week was the 
most dismal of any. 

Saturday came, and it was a day of fitful weather. 
Part of the day it rained. Then there were signs of 
clearing, with the wind sharp and squally from the 
west. They waited till mid-afternoon, and then the 
weather improving a little, the squire gave the order 
to start. He dreaded the sail, but he would wait no 
longer. They went across the bay under two reefs, 
and the squire’s hair stood on end all the way. 

It was shortly after supper, and Henry Burns and 
Jack Harvey sat with their friends, the Warren boys, 
on the veranda of the Warren cottage. The wind was 
still high, and now and then there came a brief rain- 
squall. 

I wonder if the Viking will be in,” said George 
Warren. 

“ Possibly,” replied Harvey; but, if she isn’t, we’ll 
give the squire another day. It’s stiff wind for him 
to sail in. What worries me, is whether the crew are 


316 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


all right or not. They’ve been gone a week almost, 
and they’re way down ’round Stoneland somewhere.” 

‘‘ Oh, they are all right,” said Henry Burns. 

And yet, if Henry Burns could have seen the posi- 
tion of the good yacht Surprise, at that precise mo- 
ment, he might not have thought she was exactly all 
right. For the yacht Surprise was hung up on a 
sand-bar, some ten miles below Stoneland, among the 
islands; and the crew had already worked an hour, 
in vain attempts to get her off. 

There came a driving squall of wind and rain, pres- 
ently, and the boys went inside. 

“ The Viking won’t be in to-night, I guess, after 
all,” said Harvey. 

Then, as it grew dark, they busied themselves till 
they were taken all by surprise by a knock at the door. 
There stood Ed Sanders, his clothes dripping. 

‘‘ We’re in,” he said. “ The squire sent me up to 
tell you. He’s gone home. The Viking’s fast at her 
mooring, and all right. Come out and you can see 
her lantern that I set at the foremast. She don’t need 
a light, safe in the harbour here, but I thought you 
might like to see it and know she is there.” 

‘‘We’ll go down right away,” said Henry Burns. 
“ Much obliged to you.” 

“ No, you won’t,” cried George Warren. “ You 
don’t stir out of this house to-night. You’re going to 
stay with us. The boat is all right.” 

They stepped to the door and looked out upon the 
bay. It was clearing, but it was not pleasant. Every- 
thing was soaked with the rain, and the wind was 
blowing. 


THE LOSS OF THE VIKING 317 


‘‘ What do you say, Jack? ” 

Oh, I think we might as well stay,” answered 
Harvey. 

So they stayed. And they slept soundly, too, with 
the night-breeze whistling past their window. But it 
is certain they would not have slept soundly, nor slept 
at all, if they had but known of a certain letter that 
young Harry Brackett had written and sent to Bell- 
port, three days before, and of the significance it had 
to the man who received it. 

It was about six o’clock the next morning that Jack 
Harvey, still sleeping soundly, was rudely awakened. 
Henry Burns was shaking him violently. 

Jack, wake up ! ” cried Henry Burns. “ Wake up 
and get your clothes on. There’s something the mat- 
ter. The Viking's gone. Yes, she’s really gone out 
of the harbour ; for I’ve been clear down to the shore 
to see. It isn’t any joke. Hurry up. I’ll get the fel- 
lows out.” 

A few moments later, Henry Burns, followed by 
Harvey and the three Warren boys, was running for 
the shore. 


CHAPTER XX. 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 

S OUTHPORT was very quiet of a Sunday morn- 
ing, the sleepy aspect of its weather-beaten, low 
buildings taking on an even more drowsy ap- 
pearance with the Sabbath calm, and without the sign 
of any activity along the shore and m the harbour to 
interrupt its rest. The faint tinkle of a cow-bell, or 
the mild bleating of a few sheep coming in from a 
near-by pasture, only served to accentuate the stillness. 

The whole island sparkled with the morning sun- 
light, the rain-drops of the night before gleaming on 
bushes and grass before they vanished under its 
warmth and with the drying wind. The waters of the 
bay rolled away clear and blue, ruffled a little by the 
freshening breeze, and here and there showing patches 
of a darker hue, where a wind-flaw bore down quick 
and sharp and flayed the water. 

On the point, in front of the tent, stood the boys 
that had dashed down from the Warren cottage, with 
Tom and Bob, rudely aroused from their morning nap, 
and hastily dressed in trousers and sweaters. 

There was no comfort nor hope in the view that 
extended before them. Down between the islands, a 
schooner was running to sea, winged out before, the 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 319 


favouring breeze. Nearer, a coaster, light and draw- 
ing little water, was beating up the bay, bound for 
Benton, to load with lumber. Over toward the Cape 
was a fisherman, with stubby mast and no topmast, 
skirting alongshore. 

But there was no yacht, sailing or drifting. There 
was no yacht Viking anywhere to be seen. Nor could 
she have sunk at the mooring, for at that depth of 
water her topmast would be showing. However, half 
suspecting some trick might have been played on them, 
and the yacht taken out into deeper water and sunk, 
they went out in a rowboat and the canoe, and exam- 
ined the water for quite a distance, all about. 

“ We’re losing precious time, though,” said Henry 
Burns. “ The Viking's been stolen. The first thing 
we’ve got to do, is to run over to the mainland and 
send a telegram down to Stoneland — though I’m 
afraid, with this breeze blowing all night, she’s got 
past there long before this. We’ll telegraph on to 
Portland, and to Boston, too, and have the police on 
the watch.” 

Oh, if the Surprise was only here,” groaned Har- 
vey. ‘‘ We might stand some chance in a long chase. 
Confound the crew ! Here they are, gone, at the one 
time in the whole summer that we need them most.” 

Isn’t it just barely possible, though, that John 
Hart or Ed Sanders didn’t make her good and fast to 
the mooring, and that she went adrift? If that is so, 
she would have gone clear across to the islands in the 
night, or even past them, out to sea.” 

That’s possible,” replied Henry Burns, but it 
isn’t likely. That’s one thing a good sailor does, al- 


320 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


ways, by sheer habit — leave a boat secure. We’ll get 
them out, though.” 

A hurried search brought forth Ed Sanders and 
John Hart, who stoutly protested the yacht had been 
left as fast as human hands could tie her. Moreover, 
they intimated, in no uncertain language, that the 
yacht had been turned over to the possession of the 
owners, according to agreement ; and that, if they had 
not seen fit to look after their own property, it was not 
the fault of John Hart or Ed Sanders or Sq^uire 
Brackett. 

And the yachtsmen realized there was no answer to 
this. 

‘‘ Jack,” said Henry Burns, as they hurried back 
again to the shore, “ there’s no use trying to fool our- 
selves with false hopes. The Viking's stolen — and 
you and I know who took her. He came back for 
the treasure in the cabin.” 

In the same breath, they uttered the name of Mr. 
Carleton. 

Then, to their amazement, George Warren gave an 
exclamation of dismay and self-reproach; for there 
had come back to him again, for the first time, the 
memory of that rainy night down the island, and of 
the envelope he had found in the fireplace, with the 
name of Mr. Carleton upon it. He told them now of 
the discovery he had made. 

‘‘ Oh, if I’d only thought of it last night,” he cried, 
‘‘ I shouldn’t have urged you to stay at the cottage. 
You see, the cruise we’ve been on put the thing clean 
out of my mind. I hadn’t thought of Carleton since 
that night. Hang it ! I feel as though I was to blame 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 321 


— and you'd have gone aboard last night if it hadn’t 
been for me.” 

Poor George Warren looked the picture of dismay. 

“ There’s nothing for you to blame yourself about,” 
said Henry Burns. “ You couldn’t suspect Carleton 
was coming back.” 

They had been running all the while, and had come 
by this time to Captain Sam’s door. 

“ Now,” said Henry Burns, quick and sharp, '‘we’ve 
got to jump lively and be off. You fellows will all 
help, of course. Tom, you and Bob have got to go to 
Bellport. The canoe will do it twice as quick as any 
boat could beat up around the head of the island and 
sail over.” 

" We’re off,” replied Tom Harris. Without an- 
other word, he and Bob dashed for the shore, had 
their sweaters off, in a twinkling, snatched up the 
canoe as though it were a feather’s weight, launched 
it, and started down along the island for the Narrows. 
The light craft darted ahead swiftly, impelled by 
bronzed and muscular arms. The boys were trained 
to hard work, in rough water and smooth; and they 
wasted no effort now in starting off at any frenzied 
pace, under the excitement. They set, from the first, 
a strong, steady, even stroke, that could be sustained 
for hours if need be, knowing, as does a trained ath- 
lete, that the long distance race is to the man that 
sustains, and does not exhaust, his strength in useless 
haste. 

" You fellows make for the islands in the Spray, 
will you?” said Henry Burns, turning to the Warren 
boys. There’s a man in back of Hawk Island that 


322 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


owns a big fishing-boat; and if they’ve seen the 
Viking go down through that way, perhaps he’ll go 
along for us. Every man around this bay will help, 
when he knows there’s a yacht been stolen.” 

We’ll start just as soon as we can get a jug of 
water and some food aboard,” said George Warren. 

“ I’ll go back to the house for the food,” said young 
Joe. 

The Warren boys started off on the run. 

Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, their faces drawn 
and anxious-looking, but determined to keep up their 
courage, knocked at the door of Captain Sam. 

Come in,” was the hearty response. 

They opened the door, which admitted directly 
into the dining-room, where sat Captain Sam, with 
Mrs. Curtis about to pour his coffee. 

“ You’re just in time. Sit right down,” cried Cap- 
tain Sam hospitably. “ Baked beans and brown bread 
is what you get, you know. I can always tell it’s Sun- 
day morning, as soon as I wake up, by the smell from 
the oven. Haw ! haw 1 ” 

“ Hello, what’s the matter? ” he added, seeing the 
expressions of distress on their faces. “ Nothing 
gone wrong, is there ? ” 

They told him, hurriedly. 

Captain Sam Curtis raised his brawny right hand, 
which clutched an iron knife with which he had been 
dexterously engaged in conveying beans from his dish 
to his mouth, and brought it down on the table with a 
smash that made the coffee-cups jump in their sau- 
cers. 

“ I knew it and I said it ! ” he cried. I didn’t like 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 323 


tke looks of that Carleton from the first — did I, 
Nancy Jane?’’ 

No, you didn’t, Sam,” responded Mrs. Curtis. 
“ You declared he had a queer way with him — 
though I couldn’t see it.” 

‘‘ The villain ! ” roared Captain Sam. “ A boat- 
thief, is he? We’ll catch him, if we have to sail to 
New York after him. Nancy Jane, throw some bread 
and cheese and that cold meat and brown bread into 
a box, and we’ll get away quicker’n scat.” 

He bolted a cup of coffee at one swallow and ^ un- 
loaded his plate of beans with a rapidity truly mar- 
vellous, urging the boys, between gulps, to do likewise. 
But they had not much appetite and ate only a little, 
hastily. 

“ He’s the man — the scoundrel ! ” exclaimed Cap- 
tain Sam, wrath fully, as they gathered his belongings 
and prepared to leave the cottage. ‘‘ And didn’t I aee 
him night before last, as sure as a man can see? I 
was coming down through the pasture from the post- 
office, about dusk, and there was a man ahead in the 
path; and when he heard me coming behind him, he 
slips off into the bushes and cuts across lots. Once he 
looks back for a moment, over his shoulder^ and I 
says, ‘ Why, that looks as much like that man Carle- 
ton that boarded at my house as one pea looks like 
another.’ But he didn’t answer when I called to him ; 
only pushed ahead, out of the way. And I thought 
it was queer — and now I know it.” 

The Nancy Jane, Captain Sam’s big fishing-boat, 
named for his wife, and, like that good woman, plump 
and sturdy of build, and not dashing, was swinging 


324 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


idly at its mooring. They jumped aboard, lifted the 
tender aboard also, so it would not drag and delay 
them, ran the mainsail and jib up, cast off, and stood 
down alongshore. The chase of the Viking had 
begun. 

The yacht Spray, which had been under way for 
some minutes, was off about half a mile, heading for 
the islands. The canoe had already reached the Nar- 
rows, a little more than half a mile below, and was not 
to be seen. The Nancy Jane was doing her best. Jack 
Harvey and Henry Burns looked at each other, their 
faces set and anxious. They could hardly speak. 

Only Henry Burns managed to say, “ Keep up your 
courage. Jack. We’ll get him, yet.” 

Jack Harvey shook his head, dubiously. 

“ He’s got a long start,” he said ; “ and you know 
how the old Viking can sail.” 

As for Captain Sam, he must have had his own con- 
victions about the relative merits of the Nancy Jane 
and the Viking; but he refrained from expressing 
them. He merely drew out his pipe and sent up such 
clouds of smoke that it might have seemed as though 
the Nancy Jane was propelled by an engine. 

Tom Harris and Bob White lost little time in reach- 
ing the Narrows. At this point, the waters of the 
Eastern and Western Bays came so near together that 
only a narrow strip of the island prevented the sea 
from flowing between and making two islands, instead 
of one. The boys lifted the canoe on their shoulders, 
carried across and launched it again in the Western 
Bay. They had now some six miles of water to cross. 

Heading somewhat above their destination, so as to 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 325 


allow for the setting of the tide, they proceeded vigor- 
ously. With the precision bred of long practice, their 
paddles cut the water at the same moment; while, un- 
der the guidance of Tom’s stern paddle, the canoe sped 
on an undeviating course, leaving a wake as straight 
as though a line had been drawn for them to follow. 

Then, when they came to within the last mile of 
Bellport, Tom gave the word, and they finished at rac- 
ing speed. In upon a clean strip of sandy beach they 
ran ; nor had the bow scarcely grated upon the shore, 
before they were out and were carrying the canoe up 
above the reach of tide-water, or the wash of any pass- 
ing boat. Then, still stripped for the race, with arms 
and shoulders bared, they started on a run for the 
telegraph office. They had set out at about half-past 
six, and it was now eight o’clock. 

Oh, but the minutes seemed hours now. The little 
office, where the one operator did whatever business 
came that way, was locked, when they arrived. It was 
Sunday morning, and the operator was being shaved 
at a near-by hotel. They fairly dragged him out of 
the barber’s hands, however, and got him to send their 
messages : one to Stoneland, another to Boston, and 
another to Portland. They were brief: 

‘‘Yacht Viking; thirty-eight feet, six; sloop; fore- 
sail, two jibs; painted white; new sails. Stolen last 
night. Stop her.” 

The messages were directed to the harbour-master 
at each port. 

The boys, donning their sweaters, sat in the shade 
by the roadside, to rest. The pace had been so swift, 
and their intent so absorbing, that they had not fairly 


326 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


considered until now the real extent of the loss. But 
now they groaned with sympathy for their comrades. 

“Isn’t it awful?” exclaimed Bob. “Just think of 
losing a boat like the Viking/' 

“ Yes, and think of the start he’s got,” replied Tom. 
“ He’s had a smashing breeze all night. He must 
have got past Stoneland. Only the despatch to Port- 
land or Boston will catch him.” 

“Well,” said Bob, “what next?” 

“ Breakfast, the first thing,” said Tom. “ Then 
let’s go down the bay toward Stoneland and see 
what’s happened.” 

They had, indeed, eaten nothing since Henry Burns 
had awakened them with the dire news. 

An hour later, they were paddling leisurely down 
alongshore. 

In all the village of Southport, through which the 
exciting and unusual news had spread, there was but 
one man who regarded the loss of the Viking with 
anything approaching satisfaction. Having assured 
himself that no legal blame could attach to him. Squire 
Brackett was far from being downcast over the event. 
He thought of the secret drawer and the lobster-claw. 

“ I’m glad she’s gone,” he muttered. “ Serves ’em 
right. And they can’t blame me for it. I brought her 
back all safe.” 

And yet, if the squire had known it, he was, by rea- 
son of having a son, in that measure responsible for 
the Viking's strange disappearance. 

Since Mr. Carleton’s sudden departure from South- 
port, there had been a desultory correspondence car- 
ried on between him and young Harry Brackett, un- 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 327 


known to any one but themselves. Harry Brackett, 
indeed, felt rather flattered to receive attention from 
so important a person; and he had become convinced 
that Mr. Carleton did, in truth, regard certain things 
that the boy had done as practical jokes, instead of 
puttng a worse interpretaton on them. 

Moreover, in furtherance of this idea, Mr. Carleton 
in all his letters spoke of a certain indefinite time when, 
if occasion offered, he should return to Southport, and 
the t’wo would have some quiet joke of their own at 
the expense of the yachtsmen. 

“ And when I come, I shall stay into the fall,” he 
wrote, in one letter. “ I expect to buy some land of 
your father. But say nothing to him about my com- 
ing. My plans might fall through and I should not 
wish to disappoint him.” 

Thus it had happened that when, on Thursday, 
Harry Brackett’s letter of the day before reached Mr. 
Carleton at Bellport, it was a letter of much impor- 
tance to that gentleman. He sat on the veranda of the 
hotel, holding the letter in his hand, thinking deeply, 
and uttering his thoughts softly to himself. 

“ So the squire’s got the boat,” he murmured. “ I 
wish it was I that had her. I was a fool to start off 
so soon down this way, and not see Chambers, myself. 
It’s funny, too, about that secret drawer with the 
money. There wasn’t any when Chambers and I and 
French owned her. But it must be there, for Cham- 
bers’s friend. Will Edwards, told me about it in Port- 
land. And didn’t he write me from Boston that 
Chambers says it is still there? And isn’t it queer, 
and lucky, too, that there’s only Chambers and I left 


328 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


to share it, since Will Edwards has been put where he 
won’t need money for ten long years? ” 

Mr. Carleton arose and paced the veranda, still talk- 
ing to himself. 

“ He said I was the one to get it, did Will Edwards, 
because I appear like a gentleman, and can meet peo- 
ple — and, besides, I had the money to spend. But 
there’s little enough of that left. I’ve spent a lot. 
Somebody’s got to pay me. It’s the last chance, and 
I’ll have the boat if — ” 

Mr. Carleton did not finish the sentence. But be- 
hind the heavy moustache, that had seemed like a dis- 
guise, almost, to Henry Burns, Mr. Carleton’s teeth 
were clenched tight; and his eyes looked away across 
the bay to Grand Island, with an expression in them 
that was cold and resolute. 

Harry Brackett got an answer to his letter, next 
morning, and the secret it contained filled him with 
expectation and excitement. 

‘‘ A capital scheme for us, he says,” exclaimed 
Harry Brackett, tearing the letter into little pieces and 
casting them to the winds. “ I wonder what it is ? 
I’m to meet him in the pasture to-morrow night. 
Cracky ! but I guess something’s going to happen. I’d 
like to get even with Jack Harvey and Henry Burns 
for once. I’ll dare to do anything that Mr. Carleton 
will, too ; for he’ll get the blame, if there’s any trouble, 
because he’s a man.” 

Thus it happened that Captain Sam Curtis had not 
been mistaken when, on Friday night, he thought he 
saw his former lodger, Mr. Carleton, stealing through 
the bushes in the pasture, as he was coming from the 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 329 


post-office. Indeed, Captain Sam might have seen 
more, if he had been sharper-eyed. He might have 
seen Harry Brackett dodge quickly out of sight at the 
sound of his voice, then throw himself on the ground 
and lie still until he had passed. 

What took place between Harry Brackett and Mr. 
Carleton, on this Friday night, was an agreement, 
merely, to meet there again on the succeeding night; 
after which, Mr. Carleton proceeded some three miles 
down the island, where he had engaged a room at a 
farmhouse. 

“ And what’s the joke? ” Harry Brackett had asked, 
eagerly. 

‘‘ Leave that to me,” Mr. Carleton had replied. “ It 
won’t hurt the boat any ; I promise you that. But they 
may have to mend their sail a little after it. You 
know what that means, eh, you young rascal ? ” 

Mr. Carleton chuckled. 

Keep watch for the Viking” were his parting 
words. 

There was little need for Harry Brackett to watch 
for the Viking’s return. He knew of it by the arrival 
home of Squire Brackett, in the worst humour he had 
ever been in — if there could be degrees of such bad 
humour as the squire’s. He knew of it by his father’s 
ordering him to “ clear out,” when he asked about the 
trip. So, his supper finished, he lost little time in 
obeying. 

Harry Brackett hurrying up the road and turning 
off at length into the pasture, and Mr. Carleton walk- 
ing rapidly up the island, and coming at length to the 
&ame spot, they met, shortly after eight o’clock. Great 


330 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


news had Harry Brackett to impart : the arrival of the 
Viking. Important enough it was to Mr. Carleton, 
but he took it coolly — or seemed to. 

“ Well, well,’' he said, laughing, you’re in for fun, 
aren’t you? I didn’t half expect you ; the night started 
in so bad. I shouldn’t have come, if I hadn’t promised 
you I would. However, we’re in for it. Ha! ha! I 
declare it makes me feel like a boy again. We’ll have 
a laugh on them to-morrow, for I’m coming back to 
Captain Sam’s to-morrow afternoon, to stay.” 

“ Now,” he continued, “ you get back to the shore 
as quick as you can, and keep a watch on the Viking, 
to see whether the boys go aboard. If they do, we’ll 
have our little joke some other night. If they don’t — 
ho! ho! I’m too old to play jokes like a boy — but 
I’m in for a good time. I’ll be down to the shore by 
ten o’clock.” 

“ He’s a queer sort of a man,” said Harry Brackett, 
as he started on a jog-trot back to the village. 

“ I wish I didn’t have to use him,” said Mr. Carle- 
ton, as he watched the retreating figure. “ But I don’t 
dare keep watch, myself ; and I need some one to help 
run the boat.” 

It was a long and somewhat dreary wait for Harry 
Brackett, down by the shore. The sky was clearing, 
but it was wet and soggy underfoot, and the night 
was depressing. He almost fancied that he was sorry 
he had entered into the scheme, though he didn’t know 
exactly why. However, if Mr. Carleton, who had 
money to spend like a gentleman, and who was going 
to buy his father’s land, could indulge in such a prank, 
why shouldn’t he? 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT ^31 


Yet he jumped, and sprang up almost frightened, 
when a hand was laid suddenly on his shoulder and a 
low voice spoke in his ear: 

“Well, anybody appeared?” 

Mr. Carleton had come very quietly. The boy had 
not heard a footfall. 

“ No,” he replied. “ But how you startled me. 
What time is it ? ” 

“ A little after ten,” replied Mr. Carleton. “ We’ll 
wait till nearer eleven, to make sure.” 

He was not especially companionable, was Mr. 
Carleton, during their vigil. He screened himself be- 
hind a thin clump of alders, lighted a cigar, and 
smoked silently. Harry Brackett quivered with impa- 
tience. He wondered what it was about Mr. Carleton 
that so changed his appearance. Why, of course, it 
was the dress. Mr. Carleton, the night being bad, had 
discarded his light yachting costume, and wore a 
heavy, almost shabby-looking suit, with a rough felt 
hat. 

“What are we going to do?” inquired Harry 
Brackett, once more. 

“ Wait till we run her down alongshore between 
here and the crew’s camp,” replied Mr. Carleton. 
“ Then you’ll see.” 

It was a quarter to eleven, by Mr. Carleton’s watch, 
when he at length arose and motioned for the boy 
to follow him. 

“ Any skiflfs along the beach ? ” he asked. 

“ There are, ’most always,’^ replied Harry Brackett. 
“ The cottagers have them.” 

They found what they wanted, shortly, a little flat- 


332 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


bottomed affair, that just sufficed to float the two. 
They got in and rowed out to the yacht. Stepping 
aboard, Mr. Carleton dragged the light skiff also 
aboard after him. Then he paused abruptly, as 
though a thought had occurred to him. He shot one 
quick glance at Harry Brackett, and another off 
through the darkness. 

“ We need another small boat,” he said. When 
we get down alongshore we’ll use them both.” 

There’s a rowboat moored off that cottage just 
below,” said Harry Brackett. 

Get it,” said Mr. Carleton, “ when we sail up to 
it.” 

Harry Brackett expressed surprise. 

‘‘ Oh, we’ve got to put them back where we get them 
from, when we are through,” laughed Mr. Carleton. 
“ Let’s untie the stops in this mainsail now. We’ll 
run it up only a little way, enough to drift down out 
of sight of any one from shore here. I want to light 
a cabin lamp, and I shouldn’t dare to do it here, 
though I guess every one’s gone to bed.” 

There was certainly no sign of life in and about the 
town. There was not a fisherman in the harbour. Not 
even a light gleamed from a cottage window. South- 
port had gone to bed. It was a gloomy sort of night, 
too, with the black clouds wheeling along overhead, 
and only the uncertain glimmering of the stars in the 
shifting patches of blue to relieve the dreariness. 
Harry Brackett wondered what time he would get 
back home. 

“ It’s getting late,” he suggested. 

Well, it won't take us long,” replied Mr. Carleton. 


FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 333 


There, the sail’s free. Get forward and cast that 
mooring off, while I start the sail up a bit.” 

Harry Brackett quickly gave the word that the 
Viking had dropped its mooring. Mr. Carleton gave 
another vigorous haul on the halyards, made them 
fast, and sprang to the wheel. They ran down to 
where the rowboat lay, and picked that up. But then, 
Mr. Carleton, strangely enough, ran the sail up more 
than a little way.” In fact, as it bagged out with 
a sharp flaw of the night-wind, the Viking shot ahead 
quickly and was almost instantly under full headway, 
gliding rapidly out from the shore. 

“ We’ve got to get that sail up still more,” ex- 
claimed Mr. Carleton. “ We don’t need it, but it’s 
dangerous sailing this way. However, we will get 
there all the quicker. You pull on those halyards 
when I head up into the wind.” 

Harry Brackett, knowing little of what he was 
doing, complied. 

Now break into that cabin,” commanded Mr. 
Carleton. There’s a hatchet under that seat. It’s 
all right. It’s a cheap lock. We’ve got to get in 
there.” 

Harry Bradcett hesitated. Was it going a bit too 
far? 

“ Hurry up, there ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton, im- 
patiently. “ We mustn’t lose any time.” 

There was something in his voice that made Harry 
Brackett hesitate no longer. He took the hatchet and 
smashed the lock from the staple. 

Now,” said Mr. Carleton, quickly, we’re down 
’most far enough. We’ll need some rope. There’s 


334 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


some light spare line up forward in the cabin, usually. 
You just go below and look for it. Don’t light a 
lantern, though. It isn’t safe yet.” 

Harry Brackett stumbled below. 

There were two reefs in the sail, but the wind was 
squally; and there was sail enough on to make the 
water boil around the stern, as the Viking sped swiftly 
onward. Harry Brackett, fumbling and groping 
about in the cabin, could hear the rush of the water 
along the yacht’s sides. They were sailing fast. 

Moreover, had Harry Brackett been on deck, he 
would have seen, now, that they were not running 
down alongshore, but, instead, were standing directly 
out from it, and rapidly leaving it astern. 

“ I can’t find any rope,” he called, at length. 

‘‘Look again. It must be there,” replied Mr. 
Carleton. 

Harry Brackett rummaged some more. 

“ Light a lantern if you want to,” called Mr. Carle- 
ton, finally. “ We’re most ready to drop anchor now. 
But turn the wick down low first.” 

The light glimmered for a moment or two — and 
then Harry Brackett, dashing out of the cabin as 
though he had seen an evil spirit in some dark corner, 
and giving one wild, terrified glance across the waters, 
rushed up to and confronted Mr. Carleton. 

“ Here ! ” he cried, “ What does this mean ? 
You’re not going down alongshore! Why, we’re 
half a mile out! What are you doing? Don’t you 
get me into a scrape — oh, don’t you ! ” 

The boy was trembling; and the chill night air, 





“‘GET OUT OF HERE,’ EXCLAIMED MR. CARLETON, SHARPLY 



FLEEING IN THE NIGHT 335 


seeming to penetrate to his very marrow all at once, 
with his fright, set his teeth to chattering. 

In answer, Mr. Carleton, holding the wheel with 
his right hand, reached out suddenly with the other 
hand and clutched the boy by an arm. He held him 
in a powerful grasp. 

‘‘ See here,” he said, you keep quiet. Do you 
understand? Ifs a long swim from here to shore, 
and the water’s cold. One cry from you, and over- 
board you go. Sit down ! ” 

Harry Brackett fell upon the seat, all in a heap. 
He tried to speak; to beg; to implore this cruel, evil 
man that was now revealed to him, to stop — to let 
him go ashore. But something rose in his throat that 
seemed to choke him; while the tears rolled down 
his cheeks. He could only gasp and utter a few sobs. 
He shook and shivered as though it had been a win- 
ter’s night. 

‘‘ Get out of here ! ” exclaimed Mr. Carleton, 
sharply. “ Go below and stop that whimpering. 
You’re not going to be hurt. And when you get your 
spunk back, come on deck again. I need you to help.” 

Harry Brackett stumbled below and threw himself 
on a berth, groaning in anguish. 

The Viking, with Mr. Carleton sitting stern and 
silent at the wheel, sped on through the night. 


CHAPTER XXL 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 

W OULD they be pursued this night? Would 
before the dawn, to race with him? Thus 
there be any yacht set sail from Southport, 
thought Mr. Carleton. Thus he questioned himself, 
and answered, “ No.’’ 

And yet the good yacht Viking was, all unknown 
to any one, running a race. The goal was Stoneland 
— and the competitor, the yacht Surprise. 

Thirty miles apart, these two yachts had entered 
upon this race — and no one knew it. At about the 
time the Viking had got under way from out South- 
port Harbour, so had the yacht Surprise floated clear. 
Should they try to beat back to Stoneland before 
morning? Why not? The night need not stop them. 
The crew knew the way. The yacht Surprise began 
the long, ten-mile beat for Stoneland at about twelve 
o’clock. The yacht Viking was already under way. 
Would they meet or would they pass? 

Harry Brackett, lying miserably on the cabin berth, 
was suddenly aware that the yacht had ceased run- 
ning and had swung up into the wind. Then he heard 
the sound of the sail dropping. He sat up in wonder. 
The next moment, Mr. Carleton descended into the 
336 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


337 


cabin. The yacht Viking was drifting before the 
wind at its own will. There was little sea on, and Mr. 
Carleton had abandoned the wheel. 

“ What — what’s the matter ? ” stammered poor 
Harry Brackett. 

“ Nothing,” replied Mr. Carleton, shortly. He paid 
no heed to the forlorn figure on the berth, but hastily 
proceeded to light another lantern. He turned the 
wick up so that it shone brightly, and, carrying it, 
went direct to the third starboard locker that had 
been Squire Brackett’s undoing. He stooped down 
and pulled out, first, the larger drawer, and then the 
smaller and secret one. By the lantern light, he 
looked within. 

Harry Brackett, gazing at him in amazement, saw 
a strange and unaccountable thing. He saw the man’s 
face, in the lantern’s gleam, pale to a deathly hue. 
He saw the drawer that he held drop from his fingers 
and fall to the floor. He saw the man stagger back, 
like one that has been struck a blow. Then, the man’s 
face, turned toward him, was so full of fierce passion 
and wrath that he shrank back, terrified, and dared 
not speak to ask him what it might mean. Now Mr. 
Carleton advanced to where he lay. 

“ Get up ! I want you to help me,” was all he said. 
But Harry Brackett, to his dying day, would never 
forget that voice. He scrambled up and followed the 
man outside. 

Get that sail up ! ” said Mr. Carleton. 

Harry Brackett seized the halyards. The yacht 
Viking went on its course again. But precious mo- 
ments had been lost. 


338 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


The man’s face was something fearful to look into. 
He threw the wheel over and back, as though he 
would twist it apart. But he uttered not a word. 

Now they were running near a thin chain of islands. 
Mr. Carleton brought forth a chart and spread it out 
upon the cockpit floor, with the lantern on one corner. 

Do you know this bay at all ? ” he inquired, sud- 
denly. 

Ye-es,” answered the boy. “ Those are the Pine 
Islands just ahead, I think.” 

Right,” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. “ I thought so. 
I’ll go through like a book.” 

Presently he muttered something else, inaudible to 
Harry Brackett — and mercifully so. “ I’ll do it,” 
he said. “ The boy’s in the way. I’ve got to go it 
alone.” 

It was quiet water in the channel between the 
islands, and the Vikmg skimmed through like a phan- 
tom yacht. 

“ Here, hold this wheel,” said Mr. Carleton, sud- 
denly, turning to Harry Brackett. ‘‘ Keep her just 
as she’s going.” 

As the boy obeyed, Mr. Carleton seized the line by 
which the rowboat was towing and drew it up close 
astern. 

“ Get into that boat ! ” he said, the next moment. 

Harry Brackett gave a howl of terror, and shrank 
away. 

“ No, no, oh don’t! ” he cried. “ Don’t you leave 
me here. I might have to stay a week. I’d starve. 
I’ll do any — ” 

Harry Brackett’s words were choked off, abruptly. 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


33d 


He felt himself gathered up in two powerful arms. 
He was half-dragged, half-lifted, over the stern of the 
yacht, and tumbled into the boat, headlong. Then, 
as he scrambled to his feet, howling for mercy, a 
knife flashed in the hand of Mr. Carleton. The rope 
was severed. The Viking shot ahead. The rowboat 
dropped astern. Harry Brackett, alone in the night, 
beheld the yacht speeding away like a shadow. A 
few rods away, the light waves moaned in upon a 
sandy beach. There was only the black, desolate 
island, untenanted save by sea-birds, to turn to. Like 
a lost and hopeless mariner, he got out an oar and 
paddled in to land, where, upon the beach, abandoned 
and overcome, he sank down and wept — a faint- 
hearted Crusoe, monarch of all the shadows and 
dreariness that he surveyed. 

And now that he was in turn alone and in sight 
of no man, Mr. Carleton, at the wheel of the Viking, 
engaged in strange pantomime. He clenched his fist 
and shook it at imaginary foes. He struck his hand 
again and again upon the wheel, as though that were 
alive and could feel the pain of the blow. If he had 
suddenly lost his wits he would not have done stranger 
things. 

“ But Tve got the yacht ! ” he cried, angrily. 
“ She’ll pay me for what I’ve spent. I’ll put her 
through.” 

And then a sudden thought struck him. He 
brought the Viking abruptly into the wind again, 
dropped the wheel, and rushed down the companion- 
way. He threw open the door of the provision locker 
— and uttered a cry of rage. It was empty. 


840 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


Back at the Vvheel now was Mr. Carleton. The 
lights of Stoneland Harbour shone faintly, far, far 
ahead. He sat, grim and troubled. 

“ More time wasted ! ” he muttered. “ But Fve 
got to stop. And ’twill be three o’clock before I get 
in. If they’ve got word there, I’m lost. And where 
can a man buy food at that hour of the night ? I have 
it — the big hotel. There’ll be somebody on watch. 
I’ll get it by four at the latest. I’ll play the gentleman 
yachtsman in distress, and pay handsomely.” 

But he had lost time. The night had hindered 
him. By day, he could have laid a straighter course. 
And there had been delays. It was nearly half-past 
three when the yacht Viking, feeling its way into the 
harbour of Stoneland, rounded to off the wharves, 
and the anchor went down. Leaving his sail set, 
and giving the yacht plenty of sheet, to lie easy, Mr. 
Carleton lifted the skiff over the rail, jumped in, and 
rowed ashore. 

All safe and clear thus far. No sign of disturb- 
ance in the town, as he rowed in. No launch darting 
out to seize him. Only a few sluggish coasters lying 
near peacefully at anchor. Only a fishing-boat or two 
making an early start for the outer islands. Only, 
far down below, a red and a green light indistinctly 
to be seen, as of a small craft beating up to harbour. 

Mr. Carleton rowed in to the wharf, tied his boat 
in a slip, and vanished up into the town. 

A red and a green light, showing from port and 
starboard respectively, came to be seen more distinctly 
as the time went by. Close to, one might have seen 
now that it was a trim yacht, but beating in slowly. 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


841 


as one goes carefully in darkness, where shipping 
may lie. 

There was also to be seen — if there had been 
any one to look — that a weary youth sat at the 
wheel ; that a smaller, but brighter-eyed, nimble 
youngster was standing up forward, peering ahead 
into the darkness. 

I think we can anchor most anywhere here now,” 
said the boy astern. “I guess the water isn’t too 
deep to fetch bottom.” 

“ Wait a minute, Joe,” answered the boy forward, 
rubbing one bare foot against his trousers leg. “ I 
say, there’s a sail, on ahead a few rods. Luff up a 
little more, and we’ll run in near to that.” 

‘‘ All right, Tim, tell me when we’re heading right,” 
responded the other boy. But he stared at his small 
companion in astonishment, a moment later, when 
the latter, deserting his post, darted aft, uttering a 
warning ‘‘ hush.” 

‘‘ What on earth is the matter with you, Tim Rear- 
don ? ” exclaimed the boy at the wheel. 

“ Let her come up and take a look for yourself,” 
was Tim Reardon’s reply. It’s the Viking, as sure 
as you’re alive. They must be asleep. We’ll get 
aboard and give Henry Burns one good toot on the 
horn. He’s fond of that sort of thing, so he can’t 
say anything to us. But I wonder what they’ve left 
the sail up for. Won’t they be surprised to see 
us?” 

Joe Hinman, bringing the Surprise up into the 
wind at the other’s words, himself gave an exclama- 
tion of surprise to see the sail set on the Viking, 


342 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


“ That’s queer,” he said. Tim, you take the 
tender and go aboard, while I hold the Surprise where 
she is. Don’t be a fool, though, and blow any horn. 
If they’re as tired as we are, they’ll be mad enough 
to throw you overboard.” 

Tim Reardon made no reply, as he rowed along- 
side the V iking j but a mischievous twinkle danced in 
his eyes. 

When he had stepped softly aboard, however, and 
had crept down into the cabin, he darted swiftly on 
deck again. 

“Joe,” he called, “this is great! They’ve gone 
ashore. And they must be coming back soon. That’s 
why they’ve left the sail up.” 

Then Little Tim Reardon, scampering forward, did 
a strange thing. Tugging away at the rope, he 
brought the anchor off from bottom and clear to the 
surface of the water. Taking a few turns of the rope 
around the bitts, to secure it, he darted astern, seized 
the wheel of the Viking, and put her under way. 

“ Here, you Tim, quit that! ” cried Joe Hinman in 
disgust, from the stern of the Surprise. “ You don’t 
want to be too free with your tomfoolery with Jack 
and Henry Burns. Just remember whose yacht we’re 
sailing. They’ll be mad clean through, too. It’s no 
joke to think you’ve lost a fine yacht.” 

Little Tim only chuckled derisively, realizing that 
his larger companion could not compel obedience 
from the deck of another boat. 

“ I’m doing this,” he said. “ We don’t get a chance 
to play a joke like this on Henry Burns every day. 
Wouldn’t he do it quick, himself, though? Besides, 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


343 


I’m not going far — only up around the end of that 
long wharf. We can watch from there and see what 
happens.” 

“You’re a meddlesome little monkey; that’s what 
you are,” exclaimed Joe Hinman, too sleepy and 
weary to see fun in anything. “ You’ll catch it from 
Jack — and you’ll get what you deserve.” 

And yet Joe Hinman, so long as somebody else 
would smart for it, had just enough interest in the 
plot to follow along with the Surprise. Together, the 
two yachts turned in under the lee of a long wharf, 
less than an eighth of a mile ahead, lowered the sails 
so they should not be visible, and came to anchor. 

“ You’ve got to take the blame for this, Tim,” said 
Joe Hinman, as they waited together on deck. 

“ I’ll do it,” chuckled Tim Reardon. “ I like a joke 
as well as Henry Burns does. He’ll take it all right, 
too. You see if he don’t.” 

They woke the two boys who were sleeping in the 
cabin of the Surprise — to see the fun. George Baker 
and Allan Harding came on deck, sleepy and grum- 
bling. Nor did the joke take on a more hilarious 
aspect, as the time went by and no Jack Harvey and 
no Henry Burns put in an appearance. 

“ I’m going to turn in,” said Joe Hinman, at length. 
“ You can have all the fun to yourself, Tim.” 

He went below, the two other boys following his 
example. 

Little Tim, himself, began to lose heart in the joke 
— when, suddenly, in the faint gray of the approach- 
ing dawn, he espied a boat coming out from shore 
toward where the Viking had lain. It was four 


344 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


o’clock. The boat was a small skiff. There was only 
one person in it. Whoever he was, he was rowing 
furiously. There seemed to be a box of some sort 
on the seat in front of him. 

Suddenly the man ceased rowing. His head was 
turned for a moment. Then he sprang to his feet in 
the small skiff, with a jump that almost upset the 
craft. He peered wildly about him and seemed to be 
rubbing his eyes, like a person in a dream or one 
rudely aroused from sleep. Then he sat down and 
rowed a way down the harbour — then across to one 
side — then in toward shore again. 

“ That isn’t either Jack or Henry Burns,” said Tim 
Reardon ; “ and yet he acts as though he had lost 
something — his head, I guess.” 

Little Tim was nearer correct than he knew. 

“ He looks familiar, too,” thought Tim Reardon. 
“ What man does he look like? I can’t think.” 

But what happened next was more extraordinary 
than before. The man suddenly sprang up, gave one 
glance about on all sides, then picked up the box on 
the seat before him and dumped it overboard. He 
resumed his seat, seized the oars, and began rowing 
furiously down the harbour. At a point some way 
below where he had first appeared, he ran the boat 
in to shore, sprang out, left the boat without tying 
it or dragging it up on the beach, and started off, 
running desperately. 

“ That’s a crazy man,” said Little Tim to himself 
— and again spoke not far from the truth, unwit- 
tingly. 

‘‘ Hang the joke! ” cried Tim, finally. ‘‘ I wish I 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


345 


hadn’t done it now. It don’t seem so funny after 
waiting all this time. I’m going to bed, too. I guess 
I will catch it, just as Joe said I would.” 

He went below, in the cabin of the Viking. His 
companions were aboard the Surprise. 

Morning came, and Little Tim awoke with some- 
thing disturbing his mind. Oh, yes ; now that he was 
wide awake, he knew. It was that joke. He wished 
he hadn’t played it. He wished so more and more 
when Joe Hinman awoke and found that Jack and 
Henry Burns had not put in an appearance. 

You’ve made a nice mess of it, Tim,” he ex- 
claimed. I wouldn’t be in your shoes, when Jack 
gets you. Like as not they’ve come down in sight 
of shore and seen that the yacht was gone, and have 
given out an alarm. The best thing we can do is to 
go up into the town and find them, and try to square 
things.” 

Little Tim, looking very sober, scampered off, fol- 
lowed soon by the others. More puzzling than ever 
it became, when a search through the town failed to 
yield any trace of the missing yachtsmen. The boys 
returned to the yachts, and waited. 

Somewhere near eleven o’clock there was a curious 
coincidence. Joe Hinman, looking off on the water, 
suddenly uttered an exclamation of surprise and 
pointed to a sailboat that was coming in. 

“ That’s Captain Sam’s old tub,” he said. “ I know 
her as far as I can see her.” 

But they received a greater surprise, the next mo- 
ment. A man in some sort of uniform, passing along 


346 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


by the wharves, also uttered an exclamation and 
stopped short. 

“Well, if that don’t beat me!” he said. “Of all 
fool things, to steal a yacht and bring her in here. 
That’s her, though: about thirty-eight feet; white; 
two jibs, and there’s the name, '' Viking.' Well, I 
never saw the like of this before.” 

The man stepped to the edge of the wharf and 
jumped down on to the deck of the Viking. 

“ Who’s in charge here? ” he asked. 

“ I am,” replied Little Tim Reardon, emerging 
from the cabin. 

The man laughed. 

“ You’re the youngest boat-thief on record,” he 
said, eying Tim wonderingly. “ What put you up 
to it, boy? Been reading dime-novels?” 

“ Well, it’s all right, anyway,” replied Little Tim, 
who had, however, turned pale beneath his coating 
of tan. “ They’re our friends that own the yacht. 
We’re waiting for ’em. Just let ’em know we’re here 
with the boat, and they’ll come down and tell you it’s 
all right.” 

The man grinned. 

“ Say, you’re pretty slick, if you are small,” he 
said. “ But the trouble is, your friends don’t happen 
to be in town. They sent a telegram from Bellport. 
I guess you’ll have to wait somewhere else for them.” 

Little Tim’s eyes bulged out and his jaw dropped. 
But the next moment he was standing on his head, 
with his bare toes twinkling in the air, for sheer 
delight. 

“ riooray; ’twas the man in the skiff that had her,” 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


347 


he cried — to the utter amazement of the stranger 
and of his own companions. “ Just wait a minute, 
anyway, till that sailboat gets in. It comes from 
Southport, and perhaps Captain Sam can explain 
things.” 

But there was some one besides Captain Sam aboard 
the good old Nancy Jane, to explain things. There 
were Jack Harvey and Henry Burns, standing up for- 
ward and peering ahead eagerly. And how they did 
yell when they saw the crew of the Surprise standing 
on the wharf, waving to attract their attention. 

And then, ten minutes later, when the Nancy Jane, 
waddling in like a fat, good-natured duck of a boat, 
had come alongside, and had let Jack Harvey and 
Henry Burns scramble aboard the Viking — almost 
with tears in their eyes — why then. Little Tim stepped 
forward and said he was under arrest for stealing the 
boat. And wouldn’t they please pardon him, and get 
the man to let him go ; he wouldn’t do it again ; oh, 
no. He had just found the yacht down below, with 
the sail up, and had run it up here for a joke — he 
was sorry — 

But Little Tim didn’t get any farther, for Henry 
Burns had him lifted clear up on his shoulder. And 
Jack Harvey had him, the next minute, and between 
the two he was mauled and hugged and slapped till his 
shoulders smarted — and he was almost in tears, too, 
to discover what he had accomplished. 

As for the official, who had made such an im- 
portant discovery, he hardly knew at first whether 
to be angry or not, at finding that his discovery was 
really of a yacht that had already been recovered, 


348 RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT 


But he finally relented, and patted Little Tim on the 
back, too, and said he was a good boy. Then he took 
Mr. Carleton’s description and hurried up into the 
town. 

He got trace of Mr. Carleton, too, after a time, at 
the big hotel, where Carleton had succeeded in buying 
some provisions. He traced him from there, down 
through the town, to the wharf. Later, he found a 
man who had seen such a person come ashore from 
a skiff, and leave her adrift and run up the shore. 
And lastly, the station agent had seen a man answer- 
ing that description take the early morning train out 
of town. 

Mr. Carleton had, indeed, vanished — a disap- 
pointed, wrathful, frightened man. A strange and 
most complete disappearance, too, for neither Stone- 
land nor Southport heard of him more. True, there 
came a message from the police, a day later, that a 
man who was much like the missing Mr. Carleton, 
had had some trouble over a ticket with the conductor 
of a train entering Boston; but the man had got 
away from the station, and no arrest had been made. 

But it was all one to Henry Burns and Jack Har- 
vey, what should become of Mr. Carleton, when they 
had the Viking back. And there, in the course of the 
afternoon, when they were preparing to depart, was 
a canoe to be seen, coming down alongshore. So they 
sailed up and met it, and had Tom and Bob aboard. 
And there was Little Tim, whom they had taken with 
them, to be congratulated. And then, there were the 
Warren boys in the Spray, to be hunted up among the 
islands, and told the good news. 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


349 


Oh, yes, and there was Captain Sam, roaring like 
a sea-lion over the good news. And there were the 
two yachts, the Viking and the Surprise, going up the 
bay together, to meet the Spray wherever they should 
find her. 

Then, late that afternoon, as Captain Sam was 
nearing Grand Island, on his return voyage, he espied 
in the distance, close to shore, a forlorn figure, rowing 
wearily in the direction of Southport. 

“ Fm blest if that don’t look like young Harry 
Brackett,” exclaimed Captain Sam. “ It is, as sure 
as you’re alive. Ahoy, don’t you want a tow, 
there?” 

But the boy, turning his head in the direction of 
the Nancy Jane, shook his head mournfully, and re- 
sumed his rowing. 

“ Well, you don’t have ter,” was Captain Sam’s 
comment. 

Harry Brackett, sore, sleepless, and weary, had his 
own reasons for not wishing to face the captain. 

One week later. Jack Harvey, sitting on the step 
of Rob Dakin’s store, received a letter. He opened 
and read: 

My dear Jack : — I’ve won the lawsuit and you 
shall have some money as soon as things are settled. 
I wonder how you have got along this summer. Too 
bad to cut you off, but I’ll make it up to you by and 
by. Let me know how much money you need. 

“ Affectionately, 

“ Your father, 

‘‘ William Harvey.” 


350 rival campers AFLOAT 

For once in his life, Jack Harvey was prompt with 
an answer. This is what he wrote: 

“ Dear Dad : — Glad you won. Much obliged for 
offering me the money. I don’t need it. I’ve been 
earning some, and if you want some ready money I’ll 
lend you twenty-five dollars. 

Affectionately, 

Your son. 

Jack.” 

They were all aboard the yacht Viking, one evening 
not long after — Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, the 
crew, Tom and Bob, and the Warren boys. 

“ Fellows,” said Harvey, “ Henry’s got us all to- 
gether to tell us a secret — something he’s discovered, 
he says. Come on, Henry, out with it.” 

Henry Burns, holding one hand in his coat pocket, 
and looking as grave as though his communication 
was to be one of the greatest importance, turned to 
his companions, and said: 

“ I thought, because you were all such warm friends 
of Squire Brackett, you might like to know whether 
he was after that secret drawer in the Viking, and 
whether he found the lobster-claw.” 

The outburst of elation and surprise that followed 
assured Henry Bums he was not mistaken. 

“ Well, I’ve found out,” said Henry Burns. “ You 
see, when we got the yacht back we saw the drawer 
on the floor, and the claw, too. That was Carleton’s 
work, of course. I didn’t think about the squire’s 


A TIMELY ARRIVAL 


351 


having the drawer out, till later. We were all so 
upset, you know.'’ 

Jack,” he continued, “ do you remember our eat- 
ing that lobster — the one that owned the claw we 
put into the drawer ? ” 

“ Why, yes, of course,” replied Harvey. 

“ And do you remember saying that you’d have 
eaten both claws if the one you left hadn’t been so 
big?” 

Why, yes, I remember that, too,” replied the puz- 
zled Harvey. 

“ Well, now,” which claw was it that you didn’t eat, 
and that we put into the drawer?” asked Henry 
Burns. 

“ The right one,” answered Harvey. “ I remember 
breaking off the left one to eat because it was smaller.” 

“ That’s just as I remember it, too,” said Henry 
Burns. “ Now look here.” He withdrew his hand 
from his pocket and produced the claw they had found 
on the cabin floor. A roar of laughter greeted its 
appearance. 

It was the left claw of a lobster that Henry Burns 
held up to view. 


THE END. 


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Mr. Stevenson’s hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is 
given a chance as a section-hand on a big Western rail- 
road, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrill- 
ing. 

“ It appeals to every boy of enterprising spirit, and at the 
same time teaches him some valuable lessons in honor, pluck, 
and perseverance.” — Cleveland Plain Dealer. 

The Young Train Despatcher. By bur- 
ton E. Stevenson, author of “The Young Section- 
hand,” etc. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1,50 

A new volume in the “ Railroad Series,” in which the 
young section-hand is promoted to a train despatcher. 
Another branch of railroading is presented, in' which the 
young hero has many chances to prove his manliness and 
courage in the exciting adventures which befall him in the 
discharge of his duty. 


Jack Lorimer. By Winn Standish. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative. Illustrated by A. B. 

Shute $1.50 

Jack Lorimer, whose adventures have for some time 
been one of the leading features of the Boston Sunday 
Herald, is the popular favorite of fiction with the boys and 
girls of New England, and, now that Mr. Standish has 
made him the hero of his book, he will soon be a favorite 
throughout the country. 

Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high- 
school boy. He has the sturdy qualities boys admire, and 
his fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike 
a chord of sympathy among athletic youths. 

I>-4 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


The Roses of Saint Elizabeth. By Jane 

Scott Woodruff, author of “The Little Christmas 

Shoe.” 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated 
in color by Adelaide Everhart . . . . $1.00 

This is a charming little story of a child whose father 
was caretaker of the great castle of the Wartburg, where 
Saint Elizabeth once had her home, with a fairy-tale inter- 
woven, in which the roses and the ivy in the castle yard 
tell to the child and her playmate quaint old legends of the 
saint a«d the castle. 

Gabriel and the Hour Book. By Evaleen 

Stein. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated 
in colors by Adelaide Everhart . . . $1.00 

Gabriel was a loving, patient, little French lad, who as- 
sisted the monks in the long ago days, when all the books 
were written and illuminated by hand, in the monasteries. 
It is a dear little story, and will appeal to every child 
who is fortunate enough to read it. 

The Enchanted Automobile. Translated 

from the French by Mary J. Safford. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated 
in colors by Edna M. Sawyer . . . $1.00 

The enchanted automobile was sent by the fairy god- 
mother of a lazy, discontented little prince and princess to 
take them to fairyland, where they might visit their old 
story-book favorites. 

Here the find that Sleeping Beauty has become a fa- 
mously busy queen ; Princess Charming keeps a jewelry shop ; 
where she sells the jewels that drop from her lips; Hop-o’- 
My-Thumb is a farmer, too busy even to see the children, 
and Little Red Riding Hood has trained the wolf into a 
trick animal, who performs in the city squares. 

They learn the lesson that happy people are the busy 
people, and they return home cured of their discontent and 
laziness. 

D— 6 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY 


Beautiful Joe’s Paradise; or, the island 

OF Brotherly Love. A sequel to “ Beautiful Joe.” 
By Marshall Saunders, author of “Beautiful Joe,” 
“For His Country,” etc. With fifteen full-page plates 
and many decorations from drawings by Charles Liv- 
ingston Bull. 

One vol., library i 2 mo, cloth decorative . . $1.50 

“ Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who read 
it.” — Pittsburg Gazette. 

“ Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness 
into her story. The book deserves to be a favorite.” — Chicago 
Record-Hercild. 

“ This book revives the spirit of ‘ Beautiful Joe ’ capitally. 
It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual as 
anything in the animal book line that has seen the light. It is a 
book for juveniles — old and young.” — Philadelphia Item. 

’Tilda Jane. By marshall Saunders, author of 
“ Beautiful Joe,” etc. 

One vol., i2mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative cover, 

$1-50 

“ No more amusing and attractive child’s story has appeared 
for a long time than this quaint and curious recital of the adven- 
tures of that pitiful and charming little runaway. 

“ It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books that 
win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down until I 
had finished it — honest 1 And I am sure that every one, young 
or old, who reads will be proud and happy to make the acquaint- 
ance of the delicious waif. 

“ I cannot think of any better book for children than this. I 
commend it unreservedly.” — Cyrus Townsend Brady. 

The Story of the Qraveleys. By mar- 
shall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe’s Paradise,” 
“ ’Tilda Jane,” etc. 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. 
Barry $1.50 

Here we have the baps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, 
of a delightful New England family, of whose devotion and 
sturdiness it will do the reader good to hear. From the kindly, 
serene-souled grandmother to the buoyant madcap, Berty, these 
Graveleys are folk of fibre and blood — genuine human beings. 
D- 6 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


PHYLLIS' FIELD FRIENDS SERIES 

By LENORE E. MU LETS 

Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie Schneider. 
Sold separately, or as a set. 

Per volume $i.oo 

Per set , 6.00 

Insect Stories. 

Stories of Little Animals. 

Flower Stories. 

Bird Stories. 

Tree Stories. 

Stories of Little Fishes. 

In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author’s in- 
tention so to present to the child reader the facts about each 
particular flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, as to 
make delightful reading. Classical legends, myths, poems, and 
songs are so introduced as to correlate fully with these lessons, 
to which the excellent illustrations are no little help. 

THE WOODRANGER TALES 

By G. WALDO BROWNE 

The Woodranger. 

The Young Gunbearer. 

The Hero of the Hills. 

With Rogers’ Rangers. 

Each I vol., large 1 2mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated, 
per volume ........ $1.25 

Four vols., boxed, per set 5.00 

“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder Tales” of J. 
Fenimore Cooper, combine historical information relating to 
early pioneer days in America with interesting adventures in 
the backwoods. Although the same characters are continued 
throughout the series, each book is complete in itself, and, while 
based strictly on historical facts, is an interesting and exciting 
tale of adventure. 

D-T 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY 


Born to the Blue. By Florence Kimball 
Russel. 

121X10, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.25 

The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on 
every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a 
captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the 
^ days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation. 
The author is herself “ of the army,” and knows every 
detail of the life. Her descriptions are accurate, which 
adds to the value and interest of the book. 

Pussy-Cat Town. By Marion Ames Taggart. 
Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated 
in colors ........ $1.00 

“ Pussy-Cat Town ” is a most unusual, delightful cat story. 
Ban-Ban, a pure Maltese who belonged to Rob, Kiku-san, 
Lois’s beautiful snow-white pet, and their neighbors Bedelia 
the tortoise-shell, Madame Laura the widow, Wutz Butz 
the warrior, and wise old Tommy Traddles, were really and 
truly cats, and Miss Taggart has here explained the reason 
for their mysterious disappearance all one long summer. 

The Sandman : His Farm Stories. By Will- 
iam J. Hopkins. With fifty illustrations by Ada Clen- 
denin Williamson. 

Large i2mo, decorative cover .... $1.50 

“An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of very 
small children. It should be one of the most popular of the 
year’s books for reading to small children.” — Buffalo Express. 

“ Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the 
little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this 
book a treasure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

The Sandman : More Farm Stories. By Will- 
iam J. Hopkins. 

Large i2mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated . $1.50 

Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories has met 
with such approval that this second book of “Sandman” 
tales has been issued for scores of eager children. Life on 
the farm, and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable 
manner, and many a little one will hail the bedtime season 
as one of delight. 

D— 8 


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